PS 1292 
.C5L8 

Copy 2 


FT MEADE 
GenCol 1 


** o ,0 <V v„ NO o ^ o 

♦ * V ♦ ’•,?* c\ -Cr .VV^ V V *V^ ' 

• % j '»£ ^ c^ ♦vstef* ^ ^ >W/ko 

« 

* 

a ^ 

*U ’*’ a\ ... ’ _A V ^ **’ A% 




C. » ^ — i A V -A > 

°* *•”* *° % 

> o _ v> <y . s " • f 0> 

r. # A' . • -**■■» n ffc. * . ^ 


r o «o5 

/ «> o * 

•••• <v % * 


A U V ^ 

0 * I * • , 'T ■ 



.** V> <^ '••»* A 0' %3 A <. ' 

V& « V • 0 ^ <P. qV 0 * • „ & . l t « *<£ 

W %r 0 •^j^va k ^ o <p ± K a?/rt?Z, -” "w 


o • * 


**0 


o V 




<*> . *«"0 9 .V 


• » i 


„ ^P’tV 

.* o ^ V 

(V ^ *4 



* *$* A 




■ <A •* 

- v ^ * 


**0 

s° ^ °^ 

, _ * <L^ 

*■ e> m o ^ 

A *> V % 'c 

• ^ <t, * A . • 

, ' \A ' _ 

; A **V ^ ' * 


<?* 


<0 

£> *Cn 


* * *'.••** A **o, »< 4 .o* **b **VV?** / 

Qr c. 0 w j4 , t ' • A <f> (A o “ o A *^-j A 








* o * O 0 0._ * # , i * aO ^ * © * 0 0 



* <y ? ^Cjk 

'« • * * * 6 ^ 



5* ♦: 


^0* 


A O' . 

♦ <•/ '-Co' 

^ *7*m>&r* . v v *'sr '£~4 -• 

v> */v; s * A <\ '«.»* A o v 

c o’ J .ojv*. o o ^ ..'A. ^ < 0 * -o 0 

"^® V * v-i SO^A ’’'+/. A ' 



r oV 


* 

O *. * \0 rf\ * 

sF °4> *" 1 * ^ *9*0” 

> 1 t n r-v rt' * • • ». 4 A . » » () 






/ V-^V -V .. V 

r vlvl% ^ v ***** cv aO ^ 


° <?v ^A * 




A u 

\V o » » 


O aV^ 

^ A^ < 
w A 

* *o 

* o 


<A '° * * 

aA* . v ' • * ^U> 

V %J 



1 1 


*h. 


*0 V 


> <i > ~v<n ' '*'^>y//i\\'^j& *, lP ’ 7 cf*- ° ^rnw^sr\”^ .-vs <s» , <z/y//n\^& > ~ v 

<?A *'*»-** A 0 *»»"’ *^r ^ **»’* _ A 

y ^ *0. 0^ *vVL> *> V V •!%?' cjft aP\^ 





* v ■>, 


, *^T’ 1 A <, 

°o <* .^. ^ 


♦ ^ ^ • 



® aV^» ° 
** <y ^ ° 
4 A 


••* v% 


<J 


O I 


: v 






o 4 A'" * i # „ ^<^>, 

# *bv* ^ 




• cA J 

* ''o> * 

■4 ^- 0 . V * 

%. ° " * 0^° c ° *• « 0 ^0 " 

- ;’ “ ‘ 

* A Cr + 

5 k A ** * 


* 

. . . -• ^ °o A / 'V ' : ^‘ y 

^ .0 V > v . 

_ my * A V s * 4 <i» «* 

*-f^ A ^ - ■* ^ 























CZisfl 


LYRICS 


I 





















































; 


i * 

* 




s 





LYRICS 


John Vance Cheney 

\\ 




BOSTON 

C. C. Birchard & Company 
1901 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

FES 25 1903 

» Copyright, Entry 
CLASS vX.% XXc. No 

Arbt> 

COPY A. 


75 



Copyright , iQO$ 

C. C. Birchard Company 


Stanbopc iptesa 



TO THE MEMORY 
OF 

JANET VANCE CHENEY 


The pieces in the present volume , not new , are selections 
from the author 's former volumes of verse , 
now out of print. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Evening i 

To a Humming-bird 3 

Snowflakes 4 

The Music of Nature 5 

A Poet of the Bough 6 

Spring Song 7 

The Coming of the Roses ..... 9 

Fancy’s Song 10 

To-morrow 1 1 

My Choice 12 

Every One to His Own Way .... 13 

The Informal Courtier 15 

God Bacchus 16 

Great is To-day 17 

Haste, Prophets, Poets ..... 19 

The Poet 20 

The Poets of Old Israel 21 

The Happiest Heart 22 

Calm 23 

Tears 24 

The Flower of Sorrow 25 

“ The Beeches Brighten ” 26 

To Hope 27 

To the Fall Wind 28 

•* I Need not Hear” 29 

Song of the Sleepers 30 

vii 


Vlll 


Contents 


PAGE 

To Faith ......... 31 

Yesterday 32 

Little Jump for Joy ...... 33 

Friends that Fail Me Not .... 34 

The Grace of the Ground .... 36 

A Wish 38 

My Children 39 

Whither? - 40 

The Way of Life .41 

The Pilgrims 42 

The Wind 43 

The Body and the Soul 45 

To the Bitter End ...*.. 47 

The Immortality of Might .... 48 

Insane 49 

“To Dusty Nothing” 50 

The Darkened Counsel 51 

Music 52 

The First Dawn 53 

The Death of Adam 54 

The Passing of the Queen . . . . 55 

The Voice of the Mountain .... 56 

Grown Old with Nature 57 

Two Friends 58 

King Cold 59 

A May-Day Dandelion 60 

August . 61 

Prospero of the North 62 

In Winter Woods ....... 65 

The Old Tree 66 

Summer Noon 67 

Dance of the Daisies 68 

Quatrains 69 

The Fallen ........ 81 

“Is There Any Word from the Lord?” . 84 


Contents ix 

PAGE 

George Washington ..... 86 

Abraham Lincoln 88 

The Man with the Hoe 90 

The Last Words of Columbus .... 94 

To the Lord of Battles .... 96 

Yapp an . 98 

The Prayer of Hokan the Hermit . . 100 

The Last Words of “Gard the Good” . 102 

Hera in Her Chamber 103 

Quatrains 105 

Somewhere 109 

My Castle in the Air no 

My Shepherdess in 

Love is Everywhere 112 

To Tree-Crickets 113 

Helen 114 

“Led Like the Pale Wild Dove” . . 115 

On the Ways of Night 116 

The Beauteous Body Dead . . . . 117 

Fate’s Tablet 118 

Dream and a Day 120 

The Lost Lamb 121 

Take Thou and Give 122 

At Parting 123 

Love’s Lover 124 

The Mystic Kinship 125 

The Loves of Nature 126 

We May Love 127 

When Love Comes 128 

The Cup of Bliss .129 

The Way to Tell 130 

Nameless 131 

How Darest Thou Wait? .... 132 

One 133 

The Darkened Day . 135 


X 


Contents 


PAGE 

Love and Grief 136 

The White Tower 137 

Autumn Rain 138 

The Waif 140 

The Willow Tree 

Come Along, Deary 142 

What I Would ....... 143 

The Wingless Angel 144 

Little Love Forgetteth His Umbrella . 145 

The Merry Rover 146 

The Way of It 147 

Swallow and Fairy 149 

To Youngsters 150 

She Knows 

Love ’s in Town 153 

“ Sweet-Thing ” Jane 154 

Your Dimpled Dear 156 

Luella 158 

Auto-da-fe (To C. W. F.) 160 

The Kitchen Clock 164 

Over the Hill 167 

After the Cows 169 

At the Hearthside 170 

The Trapper’s Sweetheart . . . . 171 




BETWEEN THE ACTS 


We act the part allotted ; right or wrong, 
We robe us, and the prompter 's call obey ; 
Between the acts I sit and pipe away — 
Quite unregarded — at an artless song. 


AT CANDLE-LIGHTING 
THINK it better to believe. 



And be even as the children, they 
The children of the early day, 

Who let the kindly dream deceive, 
And joyed in all the mind may weave 
Of dear conceit — better, I say, 

To let wild fancy have her way, 

To trust her , than to know and grieve. 
A poet of old Colophon 
A notion held I think was right. 

No 7natter how or whence he gat it : 
The stars are snuffed out every dawn , 
A nd newly lighted every night. 

I hope to catch the angels at it. 


Lyrics 

-Qy 

EVENING 

i 

T HE birds have hid, the winds are low 
The brake is awake, the grass aglow 
The bat is the rover, 

No bee on the clover, 

The day is over. 

And evening come. 

The heavy beetle spreads her wings, 

The toad has the road, the cricket sings : 
The bat is the rover. 

No bee on the clover. 

The day is over, 

And evening come. 


ii 

The low winds say, 

“ Passes day ; 

Evening is on her way.” 


i 


2 


Lyrics 


The low winds say, 

“ Sounds, obey ; 

Colors, fade away.” 

The winds say on — 

Say they on ? 

No whisper; day is gone. 

hi 

Now is Light, sweet mother, down the west. 
With little Song against her breast ; 

She took him up, all tired with play. 

And fondly bore him far away. 

While he sleeps, one wanders in his stead, 
A fainter glory round her head; 

She follows happy waters after. 

Leaving behind low, rippling laughter. 

IV 

The bird is silent overhead, 

The beast has laid him down ; 

The neighbored marbles watch the dead, 
The steeple guards the town. 

The south winds feel their doubtful course 
Toward sweet in thickets found; 

The low leaves voice the faltering force 
’Twixt silentness and sound. 


To a Humming-bird 


3 


TO A HUMMING-BIRD 

V OYAGER on golden air, 

Type of all that 's fleet and fair, 
Incarnate gem, 

Live diadem ! 

Stay, forget lost Paradise, 

Star-bird fallen from happy skies. — 

Vanished ! Earth is not his home. 
Onward, onward must he roam. 

Swift passion-thought. 

In rapture wrought; 

Issue of the soul's desire, 

Plumed with beauty and with fire. 


4 


Lyrics 


SNO WFLAKES 

F ALLING all the night-time. 
Falling all the day. 

Silent into silence, 

From the far-away; 

Stilly host unnumbered, 

All the night and day 
Falling, falling, falling, 

From the far-away, — 

Never came like glory 
To the fields and trees, 

Never summer blossoms 
Thick and white as these. 

Falling all the night-time, 

Falling all the day, 

Follow, follow, follow, 

Fold it soft away ; 

Folding, folding, folding, 

Fold the world away, 

Souls of flowers drifting 
Down the winter day. 


The Music of Nature 


5 


THE MUSIC OF NATURE 

* I V HE song of Nature is forever, 

-*■ Her joyous voices falter never; 

On hill and valley, near and far, 
Attendant her musicians are. 

From waterbrook or forest tree 
For aye comes gentle melody; 

The very air is music blent, 

A universal instrument. 

When hushed are bird and brook and wind, 
Then silence will some measure find, 

Still sweeter ; as a memory 
Is sweeter than the things that be. 


6 


Lyrics 


A POET OF THE BOUGH 

T HERE is no tint on ground, 
No blissful hue above, 

He will not turn to perfect sound. 
The voice of joy and love. 

Rules are but foolish things, 

As dust and ashes, art ; 

The very shimmer of his wings 
Is kindled at his heart. 


Spring Song 


7 


O 


SPRING SONG 

» 

W HEN to pool and log 
Come newt and frog. 

And the first blade peers at the snowdrift’s 
edge, 

And there ’s dreamy green along the hedge ; 

When strange winds screech 
In the flapping beech, 

And there ’s lift of mist from hollow and 
knoll, 

And a fuzzy cub in the fox’s hole ; 

When sleeps no seed, 

And peeps the weed, 

And clouds go shouldering up the pass, 
And mice are astir in the matted grass ; 

When bats quit the wall. 

And gnats the gall, 

And there ’s shaking of tassels and drift of 
rain, 

And sunshine and shadow, and sunshine 
again; 


Lyrics 


Then, Daphnis, blow, 

And let Love know ; 

Level your flute by the bluebird’s bill, 
Bring your heart to your lips and blow 
with a will. 


The Coming of the Roses 9 


THE COMING OF THE ROSES 

O N the south winds a flurry; 

The slow clouds hurry, 

The blue looks knowing. 

There is coming and going 
Of voices and wings and feet ; 

There is bringing and mixing of sweet, 
Of the tenderest hues 
That the deft hours use; 

There is peering of happy faces 
From secret, shadowy places. 

The fluters of June 
Blow a blissful tune ; 

On the leaves but the gleam 
And the tremble of dream ; 

The gate of the sun-god closes. 

But, all alone, will Love toil on, 

Labor she will till the dark be gone; 
And to-morrow there’ll be roses. 


I o 


Lyrics 


FANCY'S SONG 

H EAR fancy’s song; 

The warm day long, 
Like her melody 
No other sound may be; 
Not the luscious croon 
Of sunny noon, 

Not the lullaby 
When the day winds die. 
And the flowers rest 
On the meadow’s breast, 
And the stopt clouds lie 
White asleep 
In the deep 
Of the silent sky. 


Hear fancy’s song; 

The warm night long, 

So sweet her melody. 

For her dear sake 
The roses wake, 

And the pale waves lie and glisten. 
And the quiet sea-shells listen, 

Nor sing any more of the sea. 


To-morrow 


1 1 


TO-MORROW 

M AKE sure, thought. Is there wind in 
the bough. 

The little warm weeds, are they swinging 
now ? 

Can you see anywhere a shining of wings, 
Or is it yourself that shines and sings ? 

Why is it so hard to hold to the ground? 
Why would I float off on the sea of 
sound ? 

Deep in the wood and down by the 
brook, 

Hither and thither listen and look. 

Make sure ; for to-morrow I mean to say 
What I or another can *t, to-day : 

Sift the things that are from the things 
that seem, 

Say what is real and what is dream. 


MY CHOICE 


T WOULD rather be 
-■* In the shade of a tree, 

With a song and a handful of daisies, 
Than the darling of victory 
* Mid the bray of the rabble’s praises. 

I would rather ride, 

On the wings inside, 

Whither hoofs and horns come not after, 
Than take to me Fame for a bride, 
Rouged Fame, with her leer and her 


Every One to His Own Way 13 


EVERY ONE TO HIS OWN WAY 

O AK leaves are big as the mouse’s 
ear, 

So, farmer, go plant. But the frost — 
Beware! the witch o’ the year. 

See that her palm be crossed. 

The bee is abroad, and the ant, 

Spider is busy ; ho, farmer, go plant. 

The winds blow soft from the glazy sea, 
So, merchant, rig ship. But the wave — 
Beware ! salt water can be 
A highway, can be a grave. 

Bring silks for milady ; a trip 
For wines and spices; ho, merchant, rig 
ship. 

I heard round oath at the churchyard 
door, 

So, preacher, go preach. But the Book — 
Say yea and nay, and no more; 

Look to the wording, look. 

A heaven and a hell within reach, 

’ T is one or the other ; good preacher, 
go preach. 


14 


Lyrics 


Farmer, go till; ride, merchant, the sea; 
Good preacher, have at the mewed folk : 
From frost and storm be you free, 

And spared That Old Serpent’s joke. 

T 11 sit in my doorway, God please, 
Quietly looking between the green trees. 


The Informal Courtier 


J 5 


THE INFORMAL COURTIER 

C OURTIER, in unpretending dress 
Of all-excelling idleness, 

No liegeman struts that can outshine 
Me, in this good old garb of mine. 

Young whirlwinds always ask me where 
They turn round dances in the air ; 
And I am masker on the green 
When firefly lanterns light the scene. 

The squirrel, sharp in tooth and eye. 
Salutes me as I saunter by ; 

Yes, ere the robin starts her nest 
She asks which bough I think the best. 

Oft am I hid with bats at noon. 
Abroad with owls at rise of moon ; 
With wary hare and sleeky mole 
I am the same congenial soul. 

I take the breezes by the arm, 

And tramp at will my neighbor’s farm ; 
Herself I serve, without a care. 

Her Highness of the Open Air. 


Lyrics 


16 


GOD BACCHUS 

C OME out into the summertide ; 

Time, now, God Bacchus took his 
ride. 

Come out ! his hoofed and shaggy crew 
Soon dash these good home-bushes 
through. 

There, by the birch with spicy twigging, 
Will old Silenus fall a-swigging ; 

While in yon space, by Zephyr fanned, 
The dryads trip it, hand in hand. 

The vine, the ivy and the rose — 

Who swears by these God Bacchus knows. 
The faun folk ’gin to blow; they play 
The happy dancers up this way. 

Come out ; ere day grow any older, 

A nymph’s trim ankle, a white shoulder ! 
Come out, come out — ha! there they be, 
The whole gay rout of Arcady ! 


Great is To-day 


l 7 


GREAT IS TO-DAY 

O UT on a world that has run to 
weed ! 

The great tall corn is still strong in his 
seed ; 

Plant her breast with laughter, put song 
in your toil, 

The heart is still young in the old 
mother-soil : 

There ’s sunshine and bird-song, and red 
and white clover, 

And love lives yet, world under and over. 


The light is still white ; go sow, and 
believe ! 

Clearer dew did not glisten round Adam 
and Eve, 

Never bluer heavens nor greener sod 

Since the round world rolled from the 
hand of God ; 

The sun still plunges and mounts again, 

And the new moons fill when the old 


moons wane. 


Lyrics 


Is wisdom dead now Solon’s no more ? 

Are the children done playing at the 
Muses’ door? 

While your Plato, your Shakespeare, goes 
down to the tomb, 

His brother is stirring in the good mother- 
womb ; 

There ’s dancing of daisies and running of 
brooks, 

Ay, life enough left to put in the books. 


Out on a world that has run to weed ! 

The lusty hours, as of old they breed, 

And the man child thrives. For your 
Jacobs no tears ; 

They see the Rachels at the end of the 
years : 

There ’s waving of wheat, of the tall 
strong corn, 

And his heart-blood is water who wanders 
forlorn. 


Haste, Prophets, Poets 


*9 


HASTE, PROPHETS , POETS 

H ASTE, prophets, poets ; we tarry too 
long 

For the call of joy, for the voice of song; 
* Tis whistle and shriek in the bleakness, 
now. 

But, by and by, the bird in the bough. 


Down the steep of dark rolls the golden 
car, 

Gilding the night with light from afar ; 

A god’s good shoulders loom through 
the blaze 

Round the car of song and gladness of 
days. 

The haughty car, a-smoke on the hill, 

They never built that in the clack of the 
mill; 

It stops on the rock of the mountain 
crown. 

And shapes through the flame are step- 
ping down. 


20 


Lyrics 


THE POET 

F AR from the years that make men old, 
His dreams, his days, his only gold, 
Far from the curse of care, 

The darkness of despair, 

He lives and weaves, in love’s own sum- 
mer weather, 

The golden dreams and golden days 
together. 

Delighting but in visions fair, 

Whereso he looks, he finds them there ; 
Knowing that in the eyes, 

The heart, the beauty lies. 

He chooses not, but trusts all hours and 
places, 

And takes from each the meed of joys 
and graces. 

From him the June days never go, 

For him the roses ever blow, 

And bleakest hours that be 
Are loud with melody ; 

He looks, his eye in darkness sightful is ; 
He leans, his ear can hear the silences. 


The Poets of Old Israel 


21 


THE POETS OF OLD ISRAEL 

O LD Israel's readers of the stars, 

I love them best. Musing, they 
read. 

In embers of the heavenly hearth. 

High truths were never learned below. 
They asked not of the barren sands, 

They questioned not that stretch of 
death ; 

But upward from the humble tent 
They took the stairway of the hills ; 
Upward they climbed, bold in their trust, 
To pluck the glory of the stars. 

Faith falters, knowledge does not know, 
Fast, one by one, the phantoms fade ; 

But that strange light, unwavering, lone, 
Grasped from the lowered hand of God, 
Abides, quenchless forevermore. 


22 


Lyrics 


THE HAPPIEST HEART 

W HO drives the horses of the sun 
Shall lord it but a day ; 

Better the lowly deed were done. 

And kept the humble way. 

The rust will find the sword of fame, 
The dust will hide the crown ; 

Ay, none shall nail so high his name 
Time will not tear it down. 


The happiest heart that ever beat 
Was in some quiet breast 
That found the common daylight sweet, 
And left to Heaven the rest. 


Calm 


2 3 


CALM 

H AST thou been down into the deep 
of thought 

Until the things of time and sense are 
naught ; 

Hast sunk — sunk — in that tideless under- 
deep 

Fathoms below the little reach of sleep ? 


Hast visited below, where he must go 
That would the secrecies of being know ? 
Hast been a guest where, lost to smiles 
and tears, 

The quiet eye looks on beyond the years? 


Hast thou been down into the deep of 
thought 

Beloved of prophets, where their work is 
wrought ? 

Then doubt is whelmed in hope, and care 
in calm, 

The tumult melts in music of a psalm. 


24 


Lyrics 


TEARS 

N OT in the time of pleasure 
Hope doth set her bow ; 

But in the sky of sorrow. 

Over the vale of woe. 

Through gloom and shadow look we 
On beyond the years : 

The soul would have no rainbow 
Had the eyes no tears. 


The Flower of Sorrow 


2 5 


THE FLOWER OF SORROW 

S UMMER comes and summer goes. 
But all months of all years 
There is falling of tears ; 

Summer comes and summer goes, 

All hours are griePs, and the sower sows : 
To-day and to-morrow 
The Flower of Sorrow 
Buds and blows. 


26 


Lyrics 


“ THE BEECHES BRIGHTEN" 

T HE beeches brighten for young May, 
And young grass shines along her 
way; 

Joy bares for her his sunny head, 

Leaned over brook and blossom-bed ; 

The smell of Spring fills all the air. 

And wooing birds make music there. 
There ’s naught of sound or sight to grieve. 
From quiring morn to quiet eve ; 

Naught but the shadow thought will cast, — 
This loveliness, it cannot last. 

The merry field, the ringing bough, 

Will silent be as voiceful, now; 

Chill, warning winds will hither roam. 

The Summer’s children hasten home ; 
That blue solicitude of sky 
Bent over beauty doomed to die. 

Ere long will, pitying, witness here, 

The yielded glory of the year. 


To Hope 


2 7 


TO HOPE 

A H, Hope, no more ! 

From your sweet, false art 
Set free my heart ; 

For I know that the flake will follow 
On the airy way of the swallow, 

That the drift will lie where the lily blows, 
And the icicle hang from the stem of the 
rose : 

O Hope — no more! 

Nay, Hope, once more ! 

With your olden smile 
Once more beguile ; 

Though I know that the flake must follow 
On the airy way of the swallow, 

That the drift must lie where the lily 
blows. 

And the icicle hang from the stem of the 
rose: 

O Hope — once more ! 


28 


Lyrics 


TO THE FALL WIND 

T HAT I might borrow your voice. Fall 
Wind, 

To utter the sorrow of human kind ; 

To speak for speechless tears, 

For the hopes and fears 
Of the weariful years ! 


That you might lend me your voice, Fall 
Wind, 

To tell of the sorrow of human kind; 
Fall Wind, your voice to grieve 
For the hopes that deceive 
And the hearts that believe ! 


“I Need Not Hear” 


29 


“/ HEAR” 

T NEED not hear the moan they make, 
The winds on hill and shore; 

I need not hear the hearts that break 
For joys that are no more. 


Call not, O naked, wailing Fall, 
O man’s unhappy race ! 

One drifting leaf, it tells me all, 
’T is all in one pale face. 


3 ° 


Lyrics 


SONG OF THE SLEEPERS 

T HE mold is our mother, 
She will trust no other ; 
Upon her breast 
Her children rest. 


Never another 
Kind as our mother. 

With the gift of years 
For joy and for tears, 

Is a richer, she saith, — 
The gift of death. 

Never another 
Fond as our mother. 

To her promise fast, 

She calls at last ; 

She softly calls, 

And the darkness falls. 

The mold is our mother, 
We have no other; 

Upon her breast 
Her children rest. 


To Faith 


3 1 


TO FAITH 

B ESIDE thy gracious hearth content I 
stay. 

Or with thee fate’s appointed journey go ; 
I lean upon thee when my step is slow, 

I wrap me with thee in the naked day. 


With thee, no loneliness, no pathless way. 
The wind is heaven’s, to take as it shall 
blow ; 

More than thy voice, thy hand, I need 
not know ; 

I may not murmur, for I shall not stray. 


3 I 2 


Lyrics 


YESTERDA Y 

L ORN yesterday 

Came back to say, 

“ Let me a shadow be, 

A shade, if nothing more, 
To follow faithfully 
The days that go before.” 


I could but say, 

c< Sweet, have your way ” ; 

And so the gone day clings. 
Since pleasures are too few, 

Why lose the old sweet things, 
Though sweeter prove the new? 


Little Jump for Joy 


33 


LITTLE JUMP FOR JOY 

I HAD a playmate when a boy, 

His name was little Jump for Joy; 
When I was seven he, too, was seven. 
He said that he was born in Heaven. 


His yellow hair was very curly. 

We were together late and early; 

I thought, at least in summer weather, 
We two should always be together. 

But on a day long long ago, 

He left me — how, I hardly know; 
Much as the sunlight leaves the day, 
He shook his locks, and slipt away. 


34 


Lyrics 


FRIENDS THAT FAIL ME NOT 

W HILE grays of daybreak on the 
water lie, 

And lilac levels vein the western sky, 
While grass and flowers and trees and winds 
and birds 

Keep the old fair colors, forms, the old 
sweet words, 

I shall not fear the vexing of the years, 
Nor make my dwelling in the place of 
tears. 


Having the happy babble of the rill. 

The great protective presence of the hill, 
Having the flower the rude March troopers 
rouse, 

The patient, thoughtful stoop of aged 
boughs, — 

And shall I want or counsellor or mate 
To foil the plots and sophistries of fate? 


Nor am I fain to wander far away ; 

In one accustomed spot content to stay. 


Friends That Fail Me Not 35 

Enough for me to greet the lives that 
come. 

Unasked, into my simple, open home, — 

The lives that come and go, the same yet 
not 

The same, the fellows of man’s natural 
lot. 

That shyest traveller, the wilding vine, 

The sudden herb facing its first sunshine, 

The half-heard murmurs of the early leaves, 

The dreams the fancy of young April 
weaves — 

My heart sets out with these, and on it 
goes, 

Rejoicing, happy wafted toward the snows. 


3 6 


Lyrics 


THE GRACE OF THE GROUND 

i 

T O-DAY I stretch me on the shadowed 
grass, 

And hear my heart say yet again to me, 
Fly with the birds, and let the spent world 
be. 

Float, float, it says, with lightest things 
that pass. 

Leap with the gauze-winged vaulters ; glass 
to glass. 

Drink with the bees ; go with the gentle 
throng 

Deep ever, lost, in revel sweet and long, 
The nearest, happiest children Nature has. 
And once again I quit the wanton round 
Of mockery, straight betake me to the 
ground. 


ii 

Wherever a green blade looks up, 
A leaf lisps mystery. 


The Grace of the Ground 


Whereso a blossom holds its cup, 
A mist rings land or sea, 
Wherever voice doth utter sound 
Or silence make her round, — 
There worship ; it is holy ground. 


38 


Lyrics 


A WISH 

O NE slowly toils his way to fame, 

And wins, well earned, an envied 
name ; 

One vaults into eternity, — 

Got of the gods, strong-limbed is he. 

When my poor self is laid away, 

I would the shepherd boy might say 
(Tuning his pipe less merrily), 

“A bough turns sere in Arcady.” 


My Children 


39 


MY CHILDREN 

T"\EAR buds of flesh and blood, 
So dear, so dear to me, 

I dread the thoughts that dwell 
Upon the years to be. 

More kind the early blight 
Than are the ripening suns ; 

To blossom is to fall, 

My sweet, unfolding ones. 

“ Only the children’s hearts 
Go down, unhurt, to rest ” ! 

I hear the voice, and hold 
You closer to my breast. 


4 o 


Lyrics 


WHITHER f 

HITHER leads this pathway, little 



* * one ? — 

It runs just on and on, is never done. 

Whither leads this pathway, mistress fair? — 
That path to town, sir ; to the village 
square. 

Whither leads this pathway, father old ? — 
To the white quiet of the churchyard fold. 


The Way of Life 


4i 


THE WA V OF LIFE 

A SOLDIER answered, “ Bid the bat- 
tie bray, 

Woo me with music of the fray.” 

A boy laid by his playthings, — “ Mother 
dear, 

I soon can help ; another year.” 

A maiden gazed into the great night 
sky, — 

“ Yes, God will send him by and by.” 

Steadfast, along the way of life they 
passed : 

A soft voice drowned the trumpet-blast. 

The child — a little stone, on it his name, 

The maiden’s lover never came. 


42 


Lyrics 


THE PILGRIMS 

W HITHER, pilgrims, whither bound. 
Passing slowly with no sound ? ” 
One by one they journey by, 

Gliding, gliding silently ; 

Slowly, slowly, dim and gray, 

Hold they on their ghostly way. 

cc Hither, children, making May 
Of the solemn autumn day ; 

Who were they but now went by 
While the dead weeds gave a sigh ? 

Who the pilgrims, dim and gray, 

Stopt, and looked upon your play ? ” 

“ We have wandered many hours, 

Here where some one hides the flowers ; 
We heard laughter in the grass, 

But we saw no pilgrim pass.” 

Whispers one — pale-cheeked is she — 

“ Shapes went by ; they beckoned me.” 


The Wind 


43 


THE WIND 

9/ | v IS told, long years ago 

“ The wind,” a maiden cried, 
“ Bespeak him merry wedding ” ; 
That night the maiden died. 

The wind had won her spirit, 

Bride of the wind was she ; 

And every breath blew sweet. 

The air grew melody. 

O wondrous, wondrous night 
For wind and spirit fair : 

The moon, the stars, the music, 
The bliss of the bridal pair ! 

A life may all be lived 
Betwixt the dark and dawn ; 

But pray for him that wakens 
To find it lived and gone. 

A band of angels came, 

And bore the soul away ; 

On wings no wind may follow 
They fled at break of day. 


44 


Lyrics 


The lonely, homeless wind, 

He roves, bemoaning sore : 

The soul ! he seeks her, roaming. 
Moaning, evermore. 


The Body and the Soul 45 


THE BODY AND THE SOUL 
1 

P URE spirit, pure and strangely beautiful, 
What body fled’st thou ? Where in 
all this dull, 

Unlovely world was there such loveliness 
That thou couldst wear it for thy fleshly 
dress ? 

Before this hour thou mnst have looked on 
me ; 

As men look on old friends I look on thee. 

It cannot be. Far-wandering music blown 
From heaven thy voice is. In what gar- 
den grown 

Wert thou, too lovely blossom, in what 
vale ? 

Who wert thou ere the flushing cheek fell 
pale ? 

The quick winds change , and change the 
fields and sky ; 

Look well , thou mayest know me by and by. 


\6 


Lyrics 


ii 

What hate dispatched thee out of Hell 
To mock me? Shapeless, smoky mass, 
Thou hideous mist, I curse thee : pass ! 

Time was when I was welcome to thy breast ; 
I knew it as the wild bird knows her nest. 

Thou liest ! never on that fell 

The sight that took not instant blight. 

Pass ! pass ! blot on God’s light ! 

Ay, through the portal whence this hour I 
stole ; 

Open thy breast to me, take back thy soul. 


To the Bitter End 


47 


TO THE BITTER END 

TTE shed no tears, he made no moan; 

-*■ He bore his burden ; mute, endured 
the years, 

Eating his bread as it were not a stone : 

He murmured not nor faltered, shed no 
tears. 

He toiled with neither hope nor plan ; 

Ambition masked in tame humility 

That yokes for equal draught the ox with 
man, 

None heard him speak again of what 
might be. 


Not once from him a craven cry ; 

Patient as are the cattle of the stall, 
Dumb as the tumbled clods that on him 
lie, 

So patient, dumb, he toiled, so did he fall. 


4 8 


Lyrics 


THE IMMORTALITY OF MIGHT 

T HE brazen gate, the tower proud, 

And haughty wall are as the cloud ; 
Kings, kingdoms — as a dream they pass, 
They are as wind-waves on the grass. 

Passes the last remembrancer 
To tell us that the mighty were; 

In death’s one trench shall Shakespeare 
lie, 

The common night close Caesar’s eye. 

Believe it not. Once might has birth, 

It dwells forever in the earth. 

Does glory flame, there Shakespeare is ; 
Caesar strives yet — that wreath is his. 


Insane 


49 


INSANE 

lV/TY darling hopes went sailing on a 
summer sea, 

All in a shining boat they sailed away 
from me. 

O, then this hair was brown ; O, then this 
face was fair ; 

The boat danced up and down like a leaf 
upon the air. 

O, then these eyes were bright, bright as 
the pebbles be ; 

They saw the black fiend fly, a-scowling 
on the sea. 

White as these hairs are white, the white 
foam came ashore ; 

The black fiend laughed outright ! My 
darlings come no more. 


5o 


Lyrics 


“ TO DUSTY NOTHING" 


w 


OULDST thou the kingliest head 
of old renown ? 


The desert cubs toy with his tumbled 
crown. 


Wouldst thou the proudest fane of Greece 
or Rome r 

Sand and the wild-beast foot are on its 
dome. 

The sum and top of grandeur and of grace, 

Mark them, — yon blots upon the great 
gray face. 


The Darkened Counsel 


5 1 


THE DARKENED COUNSEL 

U NWAVERING Death! He dread- 
ful seems, indeed ; 

But we hear not from those that know 
him best. 

Perchance to them, the many, he gives rest 
Not only, but all joys. Maybe we read 
His darkened counsel wrongly, and so 
bleed, 

Self-wounded. All obeying his behest, 
How large and kind his heart if they be 
blest ! 


52 


Lyrics 


MUSIC 

T AKE of the maiden’s, of the 

mother’s sigh. 

Of childhood’s dream, the hope and 
peace that bless 

Old age ; take of the lover’s kiss, caress, 
Of light it kindles in the loved-one’s 
eye; 

Of June’s long shadows, Autumn's even- 
ning sky, 

Of roses, of the south wind’s tenderness. 
Of stars that burn through pine-tops, 
sprays that tress 

The willow-banks where brooks run still- 
est by ; 

Take of the blissful lisping of young 
Spring, 

Take of the last faint, pleading grief of 
Fall, 

Of joy and woe that sleep and waking 
bring,— 

The costliest offerings of the great, the 
small ; 

Now, pour into the empty soul each 
thing, 

And let the Finger touch that moveth all. 


The First Dawn 


53 


THE FIRST DAWN 

H E that engenders had called forth the 
world ; 

The mist, ingathered from the vast of 
space. 

Together drawn, had fashioned a great 
face 

Of vale and mountain, tree, and river 
curled. 

Of all the leaves and flowers was none 
unfurled, 

No bird had song, no voice the giant race 
Of beasts ; for darkness held her ancient 
place, 

The day-god’s bolt glowed in his hand, 
unhurled. 

But eastward, now, dream-colors, faint and 
far, 

Foretold to those first lives the end of 
night, 

And from black silence all leapt up as one ; 
The mother-dark, with neither moon nor 
star, 

Was thick with wild eyes looking for the 
light. 

And throats of thunder for the coming sun. 


54 


Lyrics 


THE DEATH OF ADAM 

T WAS Adam at the gates of Paradise; 
Sick with the world’s first sickness, 
prostrate, pale, 

Low lay he, in his pain. And they made 
wail 

That stood by him : “ O father, dim your 
eyes 

And filmed, on your great limbs you can- 
not rise ! 

Across the heavens black cloud-wings 
reach and sail, 

And prowling shadow crouches in the vale. 
What burden, father, on the hurt earth 
lies ? ” 

“ I hunger, wife and children, for the 
bough 

Whereof I ate. Go thou, swift-footed 
Seth, 

And pluck from that sweet tree.” — With 
eyes mist-dim 

He looked on it. “Nay, wife, nay, 
children, now 

Is here the one He spake of to me, — 
Death ; 

With hollow voice he bids me follow 
him.” 


The Passing of the Queen 55 


THE PASSING OF THE QUEEN 


(January 22, 1901) 


A nswer 

shed 


the cabin and the hunting- 


The voice of mourning in the royal halls; 

The shadow crawls upon the crowned 
head, 

From out her palsied hand the sceptre 
falls. 

So. Wrap her in the banner from her 
walls ; 

The word of sorrow, why should it be 
said ? 

Hark ! up and down the earth gray honor 
calls. 

And the long glories gather round her bed. 

Through all the years her people have 
been fed. 

Yea, the wild ox has fatted in her stalls ; 

To islands of the sea her lines have 
spread, 

Proud sons of song have sung her mad- 
rigals. 

Come, robe her not in white, and stand 
and weep; 

Wrap round the banner-fold, and let her 
sleep. 


5 6 


Lyrics 


THE VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

L OW at my feet is stretched the lordly 
vale; 

Across my realm the high wild stars are 
led; 

My garment is the light, the darkness 
dread ; 

I wrap me round with rain and snow and 
hail. 

Round me and round the eagles nest and 
sail ; 

Between my knees the thunders make 
their bed ; 

I lap the storm-winds, and their young 
are bred. 

Their young that play, and chafe my 
rocky mail. 

Who cometh up to me, he shall have 
power. 

The prophet's power, the old law-giver’s 
might, 

Ay, he shall have the tablet in his hand. 
He shall not fall, but in the evil hour 
And good, uplifted, clothed upon with 
light. 

His neck unbowed, as I stand shall he 
stand. 


Grown Old with Nature 


57 


GROWN OLD WITH NATURE 

T F true there be another, better land, 

A fairer than this humble mother- 
shore. 

Hoping to meet the dear ones gone be- 
fore, 

I fain would go. But may no angel hand 

Lead on so far along the shining sand, 

So wide within the everlasting door, 

All lost will be this good green world. 
No more 

Of Earth ! Let me not hear that dread 
command. 

Then must I mourn, unsoothed by harps 
of gold, 

Mourn for the boughs, the birds, which 
taught me song, 

Mourn for the nightfall on the forest 
fold; 

Yea, must bemoan, amid the joyous 
throng, 

The early loves. The heart that has 
grown old 

With Nature cannot, happy, leave her 
long. 


58 


Lyrics 


TWO FRIENDS 

I HONOR him who needs must chop 
the stone, 

Must pluck the root up, murder beast 
and bird. 

Then label with a very butcher’s word 
The bleeding pieces. Though he build 
his throne 

On brittle stalks and hollow carcass-bone, 
Still by a princely purpose is he stirred ; 
And such his thirst for knowledge long 
deferred, 

Kind Nature counts him in among her own. 
But him I love the Muses make their care, 
Leading his feet wherever he may go, 

To spell the gentle magic of the air. 

Of olden boughs and darkest brooks that 
flow. 

He has my heart; for perfect things and 
fair 

He finds, and leaves them fairer than they 
grow. 


King Cold 


59 


KING COLD 

P ROCLAIM it, winds, — was never king 
but me ; 

Blaze it, and say the king is on his throne, 
His lords about him. — Rouse, lords, you 
mine own ; 

Up, great of heart ! your king, a king 
is he. 

And now the topmost hour of royalty. — 
Off, minions ! probe your deepest — to 
the bone ; 

The hill oaks, twist them ; while they grind 
and groan. 

Set foaming all the mad mouths by the sea. 
Rake, strip the vales. Smite harder there 
by half ; 

There do the men things dwell which 
never bring 

Me cheer. — Lords, come, a hollowful we 
quaff, 

Then for a roaring stave. Hey, drink and 
sing, 

The world’s last window, rack it with 
your laugh : 

Ha, ha, but it is good to be a king ! 


6o 


Lyrics 


A MAY-DAY DANDELION 

T HE witchery busy up and down the 
air! 

Deep in the spruce, which loved to hold 
the snow 

On his plump shoulders but a month ago, 
The warm winds gossip ; tell how here and 
there 

A bloodroot ventures, how the elders dare, 
And little dogwood, how the maples blow, 
The knowing elms have leaves or some- 
thing so 

Like leaves to closer look they do not care. 
The bluebird, robin, sparrow, blackbird, too, 
They have a word about. No item sweet 
To miss, they lisp the roll of beauty 
through. 

True gossips ! letting slip the thing most 
meet 

For wonder. Here it is, dropt from the 
blue 

This very morn, — the love-star at my feet. 


August 


61 


AUGUST 

M UTE the ferny woodland ways, 
Hushed the merry meadow-lays ; 
Stillness all and heavy haze 
Of the charmed August days. 

In the hollow, on the steep, 

Dwells a silence long and deep ; 

Not the smallest whisper, now, 

Of the secrets of the bough ; 

In his glory hid, alone, 

Sits the hill god on his throne. 


62 


Lyrics 


PROSPERO OF THE NORTH 

Y OUNG day has flung his saffron ban- 
ner out. 

And the first beamy spear-tips prick the 
world. 

Straightway my wee ones will I set to work. 
The hemlocks listen, the sullen brook runs 
dark, 

Grim joy glows in the bones of the hoar 
oak ; 

How strong he is, and shapely ! — Hither, 
chicks ! 

First, you that know the chambers of the 
winds, 

See that they are all barred ; let not a 
breath 

Come forth of them. This done, lay hold, 
draw up 

The sagging cloud that hangs behind yon 
mount, 

And stretch his leaden length from east 
to west. — 

The mild, the social, maples lean this way, 
Hearing my words, and the clean beeches 
clap 


Prosper o of the North 63 

Their scattered leaves ; attentive turns the 
birch, 

High-bred and delicate, and right happy 
nod 

The water-loving alders. — Hear, me, chicks! 

Soon as the first flake flutters in the calm. 

Caught like the thistledown in spider’s web, 

Get you abroad, and, as the white flowers 
come. 

Consign them to the use of beauty, guide 

And stay them through the grave and 
decent day. 

Hark ! we must have unguessed devices 
wrought ; 

Far up and down the unbroken loveliness 

Must run so wondrous waves and dimply 
curves 

Heaven shall reshape her clouds, and still 
despair 

To match your magic. Mischiefs, mark 
me well ! 

Hood the prim steeple so the silly bell 

Shall wag without a sound ; pad soft the 
rock. 

Stuff every hollow, cushion every knoll, 

Ay, drape all nakedness to the utmost 
stretch 

Of antic fancy, — bush and shrub and 


64 Lyrics 

And stump and stub and pole ; on fence 
and wall 

Bring to the task most exquisite caprice ; 
So fair confusion let wild beauty work 
No man will know his own. Away ! 
Away ! 


In Winter Woods 


6 5 


IN WINTER WOOES 

/ I A HE lisping, flitting of the chickadee, 
-■* The challenge from the sentry of 

the jay. 

Quaint tracks that might a lated fairy's 
be, — 

The wind's and wood-thing’s wayward 
broidery. 

Branches and boles of during brown and 

gray, 

Grouped evergreens, thin wisp of leaves, 
which stay 

To swing and sing on sturdy shrub or 
tree — 

These know I well; but ah, the dreams 
that house 

Under the quiet, white, snow-burdened 
boughs ! 


66 


Lyrics 


THE OLD TREE 

Y ON shape, so pitiful, once stood, 
The Saul of his tall brotherhood ; 
Tempest, at last, and length of days, 
Have mastered ; lo, the king decays. 

Time was when gravely to his shade, 
At noon, the lordlier cattle strayed ; 
And from his top, at morn, rang clear 
The bravest song of all the year. 

He sighs, is silent, sighs again, — 

One fate we have, O sons of men ! 
These empty hands upheld in air. 

It is your own last reach of prayer. 


Summer Noon 


67 


SUMMER NOON 

T HE dust, unlifted, lies as first it lay 
When on his dewy path came up 
the day ; 

The spider-web stirs not ; on seas of air. 
The thistle-ship, becalmed, rocks idly 
there ; 

The fern-leaves curl, the wild rose sweet- 
ness spends 

Rich as at eve the honeysuckle lends ; 

The creeping cattle feed far up the hill. 
The blithest birds have hid, the wood is 
still ; 

On daisied dials, pointing flower to flower, 
The shadow-hands have reached the golden 
hour. 


68 


Lyrics 


DANCE OF THE DAISIES 

E VERY morning mist upcurled — 

Dream-flight of the waking world — , 
Every brook that, curving, passes 
Lushest juts of tressy grasses. 

Every nesting bird that pushes 
Smoothest breast between the bushes, — 
Perfect poises, grace entrancing ; 

But have you seen the daisies dancing? 


Quatrains 


69 


A POET'S LINE 

Secure as sweet the honey-cell y 
The spider-web is strong ; 

A poet ’s line — there ’ s none can tell 
It may live long and long . 


QUATRAINS 

NA TURE 

“ Men are decayed and studies ; she is not.” 

Nature has tunes yet; never an hour 
Falters the music, near or far; 

The sweet old sleep-song falls on the 
flower, 

The hymn of the Highest rolls with the 
star. 

SPRING 

Bring, bluebird, from the blue above 
The song love’s heavenly own ; 

See ! hand in hand, come Spring and Love — 
Or is it Love alone ? 


7 ° 


Lyrics 


JUNE 

The green land blossoms, and the blue 
skies hover, 

The warm winds blow, and the song-birds 
pair ; 

Under love’s window comes, fluting, the 
lover. 

And the loved one leans, with his rose in 
her hair. 


/ WOULDN'T 

A sprig of mint by the wayward brook, 
A nibble of birch in the wood, 

A summer day and love and a book, 
And I wouldn’t be king if I could. 


EARLY MORNING 

A webby mead with diamonds set, 

Dim, drowsy boughs, dream-burdened yet, 
A mist-flock half-way up the steep. 

Curled there, rock-folded, still asleep. 


Quatrains 


71 


SUMMER EVENING 


I 

The birds all voiceless are, 
The singing air is still ; 

’Tis guard-mount of the star, 
H eaven’s watch is on the hill. 


11 

The long, long sorrow on the hill, 
The evening grief upon the pine ; 
Earth murmurs, as a dreamer will, 

“ Again the measures never mine ! ” 


EVENING WINDS 


You tell it, winds, the bliss that swings 
The flower, the little leaf; 

But ever to the measure clings 
The mystery of grief. 


72 


Lyrics 


THE HERMIT-THRUSH 

Holy , Holy ! — In the hush 
Hearken to the hermit-thrush ; 
All the air 
Is in prayer. 


AUTUMN 

These colors, memories are they, 

The past this beauty wore; 

The bright hours dream, bring back the 
day 

But dream may summon more. 


NOVEMBER 

The brook, slow northward toward the 
snows, 

Bubbling its little trouble, goes ; 

Lorn branches beckon, strained in space ; 
Death-pale the field’s beseeching face. 


Quatrains 


73 


AND GHOSTS BREAK UP THEIR GRAVES ” 


The dead are up ; they take the gale 
That rakes the faded mound. 

Hark ! laughter there ! or was it wail ? 
Life does not know that sound. 


THE TREES 

I 

Men hope and labor and despair. 
Laughter they have and sorrow ; 

The trees their gods’ composure wear 
To-morrow and to-morrow. 


n 

The patient pleading of the trees, 
Deep it shames the soul’s despair; 
In supplication, moveless, mute. 
They keep their attitude of prayer. 


74 


Lyrics 


THE VOICE OF THE POOL 

Unto the lowly comes the glory far. 

I lie here, looking up ; 

The proud sky fills my cup. 

It stoops, and sets upon my breast the 
star. 


WHAT CANST THOU DO? 

Since He has hid it from thee, wherefore 
seek ; 

Why reach thy thought for it, the secret 
high? 

Know first the warm wind-breath against 
thy cheek, — 

The message of the mystery passing by. 


TWO IN THE SUMMED TIDE 

The grandsire muses, — “ Wind, I hear in 
thee 

The growing murmur of eternity ” ; 

She with the rose-mouth smiles and sighs, 
— “Ah me, 

The little leaves coquetting in the tree ! ” 


Quatrains 


75 


THE POET 

A priest of Heaven, some gracious hour. 
Lowered to him chasuble and stole ; 

He sings a weed — it is a flower, 

He sings a star — it is a soul. 


BEAUTY AND DREAM 

Beauty and Dream, I fled from you, one 
day, 

And down a new path wandered on and on; 
Had you not followed softly all the way — 
I knowing not — Oh, whither had I gone! 


DREAMLAND 

The realm of dream, what matter where 
it is? 

Thither the poet goes for melodies, 

And wisdom for things better than it 
knows, 

And love when blenched the red is in her 


rose. 


7 6 


Lyrics 


DREAM 

Remember that the path of dream 
Runs back to ways of men ; 

After the rapture and the gleam, 
The death to wake again ! 


LOST JOY 

Lost Joy, who now is at your side 
From morning until eventide ; 

Who has you softly by the hand, 
All up and down the summer land? 


THE JOYS FOREVER 

The voice of melody outlives the hour, 
Nor with the summer dies the summer 
flower ; 

Thought walks among the blossoms — none 
are gone, 

Dream hears the music singing, singing on. 


Quatrains 


77 


THE SKILFUL LISTENER 

Who listens well hears Nature, on her 
round, 

When least she thinks it; bird and bough 
and stream 

Not only, but her silences profound, 
Surprised by nicer cunning of his dream. 


TILE VICTOR’S ART 

Along all ways the path of triumph lies. 
All places own the victor’s art, — 

To do that greater thing than win the 
prize. 

Lose it, yet keep a happy heart. 


RUIN 

Toppled the throne, crumbled the kingly 
hand, 

Darkened the chambers, carpeted with sand : 
It is good death. Ruin, that ’s he unblest, 
Gray with the heart-dust in his living 
breast. 


78 


Lyrics 


OUR TWO GIFTS 

Two gifts God giveth, and He saith, 
One shall be forfeit in the strife, . 

The one no longer needed, — life ; 

No hand shall take the other, — death. 


ERELONG 

Homeward ere long it mounts, the stream 
That moved the mill ; 

After the valley toil the dream 
Upon the hill. 


ETERNITY 

Over and over is the lesson taught, 

A little time, and all things come to naught. 
I watch the cloud-shapes build and cease 
to be ; 

Heart, whence that dream of thine, — eter- 
nity ? 


Quatrains 


79 


TEARS 

The lips are pallid, parched with woes ? 
Weep ! the fall of tears is not in vain; 
In the grass is laughter after rain, 

The blush is back upon the rose. 


« THE BRIGHT ETERNAL HOUR ” 

What time the deepest shadows are 
Breaks, burns the bright eternal hour ; 
From the wide dark looks out the star, 
From all death’s night the April flower. 


THY TRUST 

y 

But a time for joy and tears. 
The dream and then the dust? 
If Another’s are thy years. 
Thine alone thy trust. 


8o 


Lyrics 


DEATH 

Fearest the shadow? Keep thy trust 
Still the star-worlds roll. 

Fearest death? sayest, “Dust to dust 
No ; say, “ Soul to soul ! ” 


The Fallen 


81 


THE FALLEN 

(In Memoriam, May 30) 

I 

T OLL the slow bell, 

Toll the low bell, 

Toll, toll. 

Make dole 

For them that wrought so well. 

Come, come. 

With muffled drum 
And wailing lorn 
Of dolorous horn ; 

The solemn measure slow 
Toll and beat and blow ; 

Put out all glories that adorn 
The sweet, unheeding morn. 

Come, come ; 

To the muffled drum 
And the sad horns 

Bring flowers for them that took the 
thorns. 


Knell, knell ; 

Let the slow bell 


82 


Lyrics 


Be struck and the troubled drum ; 

Come, come, 

The solemn measure slow 
Toll and beat and blow ; 

Rebuke this bright, unpitying light. 

The solemn measure slow 

Toll and beat and blow 

For them our beauty and our might 

Gone on the unreturning way, 

For them that took the night 
That we might have the day. 

ii 

Hark ! voices, joyous voices break 
From the green martyr-mounds : “ Wake, 
wake ! 

The Lord our God, once more He 
saith, 

This hand made all — it made not death. 
Let the blithe bells ring 
And the May air sing ; 

Strike the quick drum, 

Smite sorrow dumb ; 

Blow the glad horn, 

This glad May morn ; 

Lift the valiant measures high 
Of the proud earth and sky 
For them that tent 
Beyond the firmament. 


The Fallen 


83 


And on the field of light 
Still gather to the fight. 

“ Blow the glad horn, 

This glad May morn ; 

Stanch, undaunted measures blow, 
Gathering courage as they go, — 
Valiant measures high 
Carolled of earth and sky ; 

Set the bright, triumphal stave 
For them that fought so well, 
That faltered not nor fell ; 

For them and all whereso yon 
wave, 

Unto the four winds given 
And the proud earth and heaven. 
There believe and battle they 
Whose face is toward the day. 
The ever-living light, 

Where is no night, 

Where is no death nor shadow 
grave/’ 


colors 


of the 


84 


Lyrics 


“75 THERE ANY WORD FROM THE 

LORD?" 

(Jeremiah xxxvii. 17.) 

D AYLONG a craven cry goes up: 

“The people drink a bitter cup, 
They languish, gathering stones for bread, 
Brave faith is fallen, the old hope dead.” 
The babblers will not cease : 

“ The people have no peace.” 

Trust is outworn, naught can be done, 
There is no good under the sun, 

The blue sky fades, the old faiths fail, 
The strong hand shakes, the warriors wail ; 
Daylong the craven cry, 

“ The people faint, they die.” 

Turn to the wall our faces, we 
That vanquish air, and earth, and sea ! 
The sun shines yonder ; somewhere glows 
The old first hope, bright as it rose, 

The hope whose accent high 
Shall brand this whining lie. 


“Any Word from the Lord?” 85 


If doubts, risen idols of the Nile, 

Again the hallowed land defile, 

Thunder yet clothes green Horeb’s crown ; 
Let Sinai speak, and smite them down. 
Life nests yet in the clod, 

Israel has still his God. 

You, seers and prophets, poets, may 
See yet the good gold in the day. 

Still red at heart, arise, arise ! 

Sing back the blue into the skies. 

The green into the grass, 

And bid the phantoms pass. 

Once more, blest messengers, declare 
That love still lives, that life is fair ; 

Say knowledge knows not, trust is all, 
And crush these wise which writhe and 
crawl ; 

Wake, wake, your strains of fire ! 

God ’s for us — strike the lyre ! 


86 


Lyrics 


GEORGE WASHINGTON 

F IRST of the deedful, giant few, 

So high in Freedom’s grace he grew. 
To-day his voice she leans to hear 
Across a hundred noisy year ; 

The virtues meet in him to vie, 

As, in autumn weather. 

Sunset colors gather 
Down the western sky, 

Divulging, ere they pass, 

The dyes of which the daylight was. 

The lawless gods no more allot 
As in old Homer’s tales ; 

According as ourselves have wrought, 

So hang the honest scales : 

Our brown-haired, blue-eyed Saul 
Of battle, stalwart, tall, 

Must climb, unstayed, 

The heights he made. 

August, unfellowed to the last, 

From height to height he passed; 

The day-star of his race. 

He rose, he shone into his place. 


George Washington 87 


The lusty suns wheel on ; 

The years have come and gone, 

Sowing new worth 
In the old earth. 

Through all the summers but one name 
Has blossomed in the field of fame, 
All-beautiful, white-leaved, to be 
With his, the Father of the Free; 

One only dare 
We find that fair, — 

The name of him against whose breast 
Bondage could sob itself to rest. 

Stands yet the Father as he stood, 

Full statured, great, sublimely good. 
Before God’s face he wrought ; 

It cannot come to naught. 

As fate’s was his right hand ; 

He built, and it shall stand. 


88 


Lyrics 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

T HE hour was on us ; where the man ? 

The fateful sands unfaltering ran. 
And up the way of tears 
He came into the years, 

Our pastoral captain. Forth he came 
As one that answers to his name ; 

Nor dreamed how high his charge, 

His privilege how large, — 

To set the stones back in the wall 
Lest the divided house should fall. 

The shepherd who would keep 
The flocks, would fold the sheep, 

Humbly he came, yet with the mien 
Presaging the immortal scene, — 

Some battle of His wars 
Who sealeth up the stars. 

No flaunting of the banners bold 
Borne by the haughty sons of old ; 

Their blare, their pageantries, 

Their goal, — they were not his. 


Abraham Lincoln 


89 


The need comes not without the man ; 
The prescient hours unceasing ran, 

And up the way of tears 
He came into the years, 

Our pastoral captain, sent to crook 
The spear into the pruning-hook, 

To toil, untimely sleep 
And leave a world to weep. 


9 ° 


Lyrics 


THE MAN WITH THE HOE 

(A Reply to Edwin Markham.) 

“ Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way; she 
better understands her own affairs than we.” — Montaigne. 

N ATURE reads not our labels, “great ” 
and “ small ” ; 

Accepts she one and all 


Who, striving, win and hold the vacant 
place : 

All are of royal race. 


Him, there, rough-cast, with rigid arm and 
limb. 

The Mother molded him, 


Of his rude realm ruler and demigod, 
Lord of the rock and clod. 

With Nature is no “better” and no 

CC H 

worse, 

On this bared head no curse. 


The Man with the Hoe 91 

Humbled it is and bowed ; so is he 
crowned 

Whose kingdom is the ground. 

Diverse the burdens on the one stern road 

Where bears each back its load ; 

Varied the toil, but neither high nor low 

With pen or sword or hoe, 

He that has put out strength, lo, he is 
strong ; 

Of him with spade or song 

Nature but questions, “This one, shall he 
stay ? ” 

She answers “Yea” or Nay,” 

“Well, ill, he digs, he sings”; and he 
bides on. 

Or shudders, and is gone. 

Strength shall he have, the toiler, strength 
and grace, 

So fitted to his place 

As he leaned there, an oak where sea 
winds blow, 

Our brother with the hoe. 


92 


Lyrics 


No blot, no monster, no unsightly thing, 

The soil’s long-lineaged king; 

His changeless realm, he knows it and 
commands ; 

Erect enough he stands, 

Tall as his toil. Nor does he bow un- 
blest ; 

Labor he has, and rest. 

Need was, need is, and need will ever be 

For him and such as he ; 

Cast for the gap, with gnarled arm and 
limb, 

The Mother molded him, 

Long wrought, and molded him with 
mother’s care, 

Before she set him there. 

And aye she gives him, mindful of her 
own, 

Peace of the plant, the stone ; 

Yea, since above his work he may not rise, 

She makes the field his skies. 


The Man with the Hoe 


93 

See ! she that bore him, and metes out the 
lot, 

He serves her. Vex him not 

To scorn the rock whence he was hewn, 
the pit 

And what was digged from it; 

Lest he no more in native virtue stand, 
The earth-sword in his hand, 


But follow sorry phantoms to and fro, 
And let a kingdom go. 


94 


Lyrics 


THE LAST WORDS OF COLUMBUS 
HE far-off, hard and darkened mes- 



sage ; ay, 

The sovereign utterance but the chosen 
hear ! 

A light gleamed, once, upon a distant 
shore, 

Struck from the black of night. ’Twas 
then spoke first 

The voice from out the vast : 

Thou dost possess the gateway of the seas . 

I heard it yet again : Peace to his soul 

Who brings the light to them that know it 
not . 

O that I might my life’s brief winter day 

Draw, softening, onward to the summer- 
tide 

Of God’s long purpose ; when his patient 
thought, 

Run on to ripeness, shall have wrought 
the man 

Well out, — the blossom of the prophe- 
cies. 

The bloom and coronation of my kind ! 

That people of the better years to be 


The Last Words of Columbus 95 

Will into hard-earned honor lift me up ; 

Fallen now, forgot of all the thankless 
world. 

Son, I have said ; * tis for your filial 
heart. 

Heaven's gentlest angel write the pity 
down 

And make it clear what old man’s words 
they are ! 

The hour is come. Now, with strong 
sailor-trust, 

For the last voyage. Stand to sea — to 
sea ! 


9 6 


Lyrics 


TO THE LORD OF BATTLES 

(Aztecan) 

O THOU whom we can neither see 
nor hear, 

Maker of all, the Strong, the Lord of 
Battles, 

Have pity on thy people ! 

Pilgrims along the hillway and along 
The blistered valley where no river is, 
Gleaning the barren pastures, Thou must 
see 

Our sorrow. Thou whom we can never 
see, 

Thou canst behold it ; it cannot be told. 
Thou hast to give of pity ; succor us 
Who turn this way and that, and cry 
aloud. 

Open thine hand ! then, if we know it 
not, 

But turn away and scorn Thee and 
forget, 

Take back thine hand, nor longer hold it 
out. 

Yea, if, once knowing Thee, with mind 
and heart, 


To the Lord of Battles 97 

We lean away, then do Thou cast us 
off; 

But, oh, not knowing Thee, and yet 
accursed 

As we had known Thee and forgot thy 
face, 

Shall this thy people’s prayer be as the 
wind ? 

Maker of all, the Lord of Battles, hear ! 

Let us find joy of life, though short the 
time 

As one may hold the flower before it 
wither. 

Prove us ! we cannot serve Thee till we 
know, 

We cannot love Thee till we understand. 


9 8 


Lyrics 


YAPPAN 

O NE day the Golden Garden, nine 
heavens high, 

Drew not the feet of her for whom it 
bloomed ; 

And from the Font to the Tower-Tree of 
Flowers 

The singing dwarfs were mute, bemoaning 
her 

Bound earthward, burning, burning down 
the noon, 

Bright in it as the star is in the dark, 

Slid from its place down steeps of sum- 
mer night : 

The Queen of Love was on love’s errand 
gone. 

Thrice to and fro she floated by him, 
there, 

Yappan, upon the Stone of Penitence, 
Lean, withered with his fast. Thrice 
passed she by. 

Till through the blackness of his dream 
shot lines 

Of waving fire ; and quick, reviving 
warmth 


Yappan 99 

Went stinging through his veins; and 
wilding joy, 

Long lost, once more was blossoming in 
his heart. 

Then poised she in mid-air, her glittering 
dimmed, 

That he might look on her ; a little off 

She poised, a little farther than his reach, 

And his poor eyes, strained upward long, 
so long, 

Drew down to her. Her own eyes none 
might see, 

But only gleamy mist which downward 
from 

The lashes quivered, and the lowered lids, 

Like moonlight at the edges of a cloud. 

A time she poised, then flaming, passed 
him by 

Again, then settled dove-wise at his side : 

“Yappan, thou hast had thirst and weari- 
ness. 

Hunger and cold.” And Yappan dreamed 
he heard 

The voice of her he loved in other days ; 

He heard and answered as in other days. 

While he yet spoke she beckoned him 
away : 

So did the unforgetting soul go forth 

Of Yappan, lover, gathered to the gods. 


IOO 


Lyrics 


THE PRAYER OF HO KAN, THE 
HERMIT 

I HAVE not dwelt with men, but 
walked with thee, 

O Mother ! followed thee on all thy 
ways. 

It is not gone, the strength thou gavest 
me ; 

Youth need not go because of many days. 

Try me. These shoulders hold as they 
were set, 

I have it still, that strong, proud step of 
thine ; 

My slackened thews are as the lion's yet, 
In my still bed Rest lays her thighs to 
mine. 

See, yonder rock is gray ; you take him 
not, 

And yon hoar tree puts on his leaves 
again. 

Mother, he merits not the weakling’s lot, 
He, more than these, and not as other 
men. 


The Prayer of Hokan ioi 


This much may Hokan plead. He 
makes no moan ; 

Thy child, he will acquit him as thine 
own. 


102 


Lyrics 


THE LAST WORDS OF “ GARD, THE 
GOOD ” 

B ELOVED, known for love of peace 
am I, 

From tribe to tribe, wide as the eagles 
fly; 

And I would leave you peace and love 
of peace, 

That it die not with me, about to die. 

With envy, strife and anger have no part; 
The small sharp word is as the hunter’s 
dart, 

With cruel barb, dipt in the juice of 
death : 

Love peace — not many hearts, but all 
one heart. 


Hera in Her Chamber 103 


HERA IN HER CHAMBER 

(The Iliad.) 

A ND straight she sought her chamber, 
the chamber planned 

And fashioned by her darling son He- 
phaestus, 

Built with the massive doors, and secret 
bolt 

No hand but hers could draw; hither she 
came. 

And entered in, and closed the golden 
door. 

And precious ointment she put on, and 
laved, 

And made her lovely body without stain ; 

Nor stinted aught the smooth ambrosial 
oil 

Of searching perfume, but one drop of 
which. 

Spilled on the floor where the immortals 
walk. 

Sets wandering sweetest odor up and down 

The air throughout the earth and endless 
heaven. 

So did the joy of Zeus exalt her beauty ; 


1 04 Lyrics 

Then dressed with her white hands the 
blessed hair 

Forever flowing from her fragrant head. 

And down she took the gown Athene 
made her, 

The pleasant-smelling robe with delicate 
shapes 

A-dancing out and in the shifting film, 

And clad her in it, and looped it at the 
throat 

With clasps of gold, and girt her girdle on, 

Her belt with many tassels ; in her ears 

She hung the swinging ear-rings, triple- 
gemmed, 

Alive with fires that flickered every way ; 

Then over her, down all the splendor, 
showered 

The veil, as of the morning sunbeams 
woven, 

And tied the sandals on her shining feet. 


Quatrains 


lo 5 


MY SONG 

My song , you need be neither long nor loud. 
If only love and beauty's own you are ; 

It is the one breath curls the leaf and cloud \ 
The one life lights the daisy and the star. 


QUATRAINS 

MEMORY 

I 

Would you Love’s fairest daughter see. 
Look on her, yonder, — Memory; 

Hers is that thought-emmarbled grace. 
That dream-illumed, averted face. 


n 

Stiller than where that city lies asleep, 
With fabled spires deep in the swinging 
sea, 

Stiller and dimmer than that windless deep 
The sad-flowered shadow-field of memory. 


io6 


Lyrics 


BUT ONCE 

But once have we chance to take. 

And, just with the taking, a heaven make ; 
But once have we chance to give, 

And, just with the giving, a lifetime live. 


A HEART-VOICE 

“ Chance, where thy foot is was a flower, 
Chance, on June’s fairest grave thou art.” 
It haunts me all the autumn hour, 

That murmur of a murdered heart. 


FATE 

A sunbeam kissed a river-ripple, — cc Aye 
Shall live the love ’twixt thee and me ! ” 
In night’s wide darkness passed the light 
away, 

The river mingled with the sea. 


Quatrains 


107 


SLA IN 

War met him and fell pestilence. 

Sore toil and want, all the dread foes of 
everyday ; 

These he struck down, then went he hence, 
Sent by a soft cat-thing that clawed him 
in her play. 


TO THE DREGS 

Love’s lips or the betrayer’s kiss, 
Drink, nor despair ; 

The fates mix neither bane nor bliss 
Too great to bear. 


AT PARTING 

When we met, then was the time for tears 
To blind us, shut from sight the years. 
Now, no tears; there ’s naught can hide 
the day 

When sorrow was so far away. 


io8 


Lyrics 


AT LAST 

Life is and love, then neither be ; 
And surely it is best : 

The cold winds find a leafless tree, 
The snows an empty nest. 


Somewhere 


i 


SOMEWHERE 

* | A HE weasel thieves in silver suit, 

-*■ The rabbit runs in gray ; 

And Pan takes up his frosty flute 
To pipe the cold away. 

The flocks are folded, boughs are bare, 
The salmon take the sea ; 

And O my fair, would I somewhere 
Might house my heart with thee ! 


I IO 


Lyrics 


MY CASTLE IN THE AIR 

O R in the East or in the West, 

Where shall I build my bird a 
nest ? 

Northward or southward, whither roam 
To build my little love a home ? 

Up yonder, in the clean, sweet air, 

I think that I could keep her, there, 

Too much an angel for the ground, 

For heaven somewhat too warm and 
round. 


My Shepherdess 


1 1 1 


MY SHEPHERDESS 

QHE lives, she lives up in the hills, 
^ Where mists and eagles are ; 

Blithe shepherdess of rocks and rills, 

* Twixt mortal and a star. 

Of acorns is her necklace made, 

And reddest berries found ; 

While slender vines, in glossy braid, 
About her brow are bound. 

No fairy foots it half so light, 
A-dancing on the green ; 

Nor curls a sunny cloud so bright, 
The pines and sky between. 

My shepherdess of rocks and rills ! 
We dwell the world above; 

She lives and loves up in the hills, 
And I live in her love. 


I I 2 


Lyrics 


LOVE IS EVERYWHERE 

T OVE, you are far away. 
But love is everywhere ; 
My Love, be where she may. 
Where she is I am there. 
Whether 
Together 
Or apart, 

I fold you, Love, 

I hold you, Love, 

Hard to my heart. 


To Tree-Crickets 


1 1 3 


TO TREE-CRICKETS 
ONSTANT mites that briskly whip 



^ One measure over and over, 

How like you are, a-harping there, 

The larger sort of lover. 

Scratch-scratch, scratch-scratch, all the night. 
You twang it, brave and cheery; 

One jerky stave, the whole night long, — 
Deary — Deary — Deary. 

High the moon rides, high and clear. 

The filling dewdrops glisten ; 

Thrum, plucky lovers ! well I know 
Your little ladies listen. 

Stick to ’t wooers ! So will I, 

Nor ever slightest vary 

The one sweet word of all the world, — 

Mary — Mary — Mary . 


HELEN 


T HE shadows fold; come back as of 
old. 

Shine, Helen, girl with the head of gold. 
As the moon from the sky overcast 
Bursts into the open blue. 

Out of the cloudy past 

Push your bright body through. 

The shadows fold ; come back as of old, 
Once more glow over me, head of gold. 
Burn back to your place on high. 

Flame, there, for my heart to see ; 

O Helen, my youth's blue sky. 

The heaven you made for me ! 


“ Led Like the Pale Wild Dove ” 1 1 


“LED LIKE THE PALE WILD 
DO VE ” 

L ED like the pale wild dove, 

On quiet ways alone, 

Up and down the Land of Love — 
Hear her moan, oh, hear her moan ! 

The world, it nothing hears — 
Hearing, it would not know; 

But it brought her all the tears. 

Gave the wounds that hurt her so. 


ON THE WAYS OF NIGHT 


W HO did it, Fall Wind, sighing? 

Who struck her cheek so white? 
Why gathers she wild leaves flying 
On the ways of night ? 


The unpitying, bitter weather ! 
Ere moon and stars be dead 
Blow yellow leaves together. 
Make the maid a bed. 


The Beauteous Body Dead 117 


THE BEAUTEOUS BODY DEAD 
HE face a flower, the golden head 



Unspotted as a star. 

Upon this beauteous body dead 
There is nor stain nor scar. 

Though none may find it, ’t was a wound; 
That death the soldier dies : 

The bravest on love’s battle-ground, 

She fairest on it lies. 


1 1 8 


Lyrics 


FATE'S TABLET 

i 

Y OU must have known her had you 
seen her face, 

That moment turned away, as by she 

It must have told you, that confiding 
grace, 

Of one could not but love you to the 
last. 

And had you heard her voice you must 
have known. 

She little talked and softly all that day ; 
Something, perhaps, was on the June wind 
blown 

To her could not but love you aye and 
aye. 

You did not see her, and you did not 
hear, 

She saw not, heard not, you as by she 
passed ; 

And it once more was written, Tear to year 
Two shall go , seeking , seeking to the last. 



Fates Tablet 


119 


11 

The eye may glow, the face grow fair, 
And two shall look — lo, Love is there ! 
Two shall seek not and they shall find. 

The eye may dim, the cheek grow pale, 
With searching ; ’t is of none avail. 

Yea, two shall seek and shall not find. 


I 20 


Lyrics 


DREAM AND A DAY 

H OW many happy summers yet, 

How many times the bird, the rose, 
Ere ’t is to sleep and to forget ? 

There’s never a heart that knows. 

How oft shall come the summer weather 
Along the fields, the greenwood way, 

And lover and loved one be together? 
There’s never a heart can say. 

And ever a heart why should it say ? 
What would love have of joy or sorrow ? 
Love, with its dream, its dream and a day, 
Has never a thought for the morrow. 


The Lost Lamb 


i 21 


THE LOST LAMB 

M Y heart, you happy wandered 
Along the sunny hill. 

All day a-singing, singing, 

As the happy shepherd will. 

The friendly blue of heaven 
Looked on you from above ; 

’Twas joyance all for the shepherd 
And the little lambs of love. 

Oh, when the shadows gathered, 
And the damp upon the rock, 
Heart, heart, poor silly shepherd, 
Why did you count the flock ! 


TAKE THOU AND GIVE 


OVE-EYED, look upward, downward, 



' round and round, 

For rarest, fairest things of air and ground ; 
From earth to sky, search everywhither, 
And bring the willing beauties hither, 
Where song may tongue them ; 

Then what love gives to thee 
Give again to me, 

Thyself among them. 


At Parting 


123 


AT PARTING 

W ITH tears and kisses let me go. 

Love not too deep 
To kiss and weep,. 

That love have many, many ; 

But one love, oh, 

It doth not so ! 

Pale lips it has and tearless eyes ; 
Broken, motionless it lies, 

A flower amid death’s mysteries, 

A rose that dies. 

With tears and kisses let me go ; 

Such love have many, many. 

That other love my heart would know, 
Or know not any. 


124 


Lyrics 


LOVE'S LOVER 

“TX7TSE Love,” I asked, “ what joy is 
* * yet to be ? ” 

“ Kindled at morn the beauties are 
That burn in evening’s early star.” 

I asked, and so Love answered me. 

I asked, and once again Love answered me : 
“To piteous Autumn-measures cling 
Remembered melodies of Spring — 

Love’s lover is a memory.” 


The Mystic Kinship 125 


THE MYSTIC KINSHIP 

N OT a thing that lives and moves 
But the mystic kinship proves ; 
In the deep, the blue above, 

All the mid-air ways along — 

Hark ! the same eternal song 
Singing on the lips of Love. 

Purl of stream and twirl of leaf — 
There the voice of joy and grief, 
Love’s divine, undying art. 

Waving grass and swaying tree, 
Swinging of the star and sea — 

*T is the beating of thy heart. 


Lyrics 


i 26 


THE LOVES OF NATURE 
HE love-dews find the daisy-heart, 



-■* and fill 

Love’s cup ; the love-mists ring the morn- 
ing hill ; 

The love-light to the dusk gives up its 
gold ; 

The winds fall not till all sweet love be 
told ; 

Yea, that bright sound does on the silence 


lie 


To darken in the love-arms, and so die. 


We May Love 


i 2 7 


WE MAY LOVE 

F ROM the withered, bitter ground 
Every sweet has taken leave ? 
Joy, there ’s none of sight or sound, 
Naught to do but sit and grieve? 
Look — the blue ! bent close above, 
Close above ; 

While it hovers we may love, 

We may love. 


Lyrics 


i 28 


WHEN LOVE COMES 

H AST seen the morn with first light 
’twixt his lids. 

And, at the playing of the katydids, 

The day turn nightward, softly on and on 
Slip by, yet none dare say that he was 
gone ? 

Hast seen the dream-shapes, pale with 
winter yet, 

Warming wood-spaces for the violet ? 

Hast heard the spring-song on the wild 
March air, 

And all the world’s a lover listening there ; 
The lay the little wood-bird long did keep 
Only, at last, to sing it in his sleep ? 
Hast heard the brook, where heavy shadows 
are, 

Bubble new sweet up to the evening star ? 
Not yet thou knowest beauty, melody; 
They wait the day Love comes and speaks 
to thee. 


The Cup of Bliss 


I 29 


THE CUP OF BLISS 


npHE reddest rose, the bluest violet, 

Take them and bray them in a 
golden jar, 

Drip in the clearest dewdrops ; nor forget 

Some faintest scent from where old shad- 
ows are, 

Nor the night-laughter where the brook 
is loud, 

Nor that far voice when all the silence 
grieves ; 

Stir these with motion of the softest cloud. 


Of winds that run along the sunny leaves. 

The last, add glances of the moonlit 
stream, 

Pink tremblings from the edges of the 
dawn, 

A dash of rapture only youth dare dream. 

And the dear pang it leaves when it is 
gone. 

Pour, now, and drink. Is it the cup of 
bliss ? 

Thou canst not, then, remember love’s first 
kiss. 


1 3 ° 


Lyrics 


THE WAY TO TELL 
HE way to tell how well I love you, 



-■* Dear ? 

Ask any of the gossip winds that blow, 

The thousand flowers that burn it where 
they glow ; 

Ask all the things that love’s close secret 
hear ; 

Inquire of sound and silence far and 
near. 

Of brooks that sing it or must cease to 
flow, — 

All ministers of love above, below. 

Their answer, Sweet — of that I have no 
fear ; 

For I believe all life below, above, 

Is leagued with love as light is with the 
day, 

That heaven and earth aye take the 
lover’s part. 

But should all other voices mock my 
love, 

You will not heed them ; you will turn 
away, 

Content to have the answer of your heart. 


Nameless 


V3 1 


NAMELESS 

S HALT thou be beauty’s dream, her 
sweetest thought ? 

No; thought scarce is ere it is not. 

And dare I make thee love’s low melody ? 
Nay; silence, then no more of thee. 

Shalt thou be morning, wonder of the 
light ? 

No ; light, then shadow of the night. 

And art thou summer’s red, unrivalled 
rose ? 

Not that — love knows how soon it goes. 


1 3 2 


Lyrics 


HOW BAREST THOU WAIT ? 

L IQUID as lies the wave the hilltop 
lies, 

The rocks are mobile as the breeze that 
strays 

Past them to twirl the dust on summer 
ways ; 

The stars, they have the flight of butter- 
flies. 

The sun is as the ember in the grate: 
Once more 1 cry. Love me ! How darest 
thou wait? 


One 


1 33 


ONE 

i 

O NE whitest lily, reddest rose, 

None other such the summer knows; 
Of bird or brook one perfect tune. 

And sung is all the sweet of June. 


Once come and gone, the one dear face, 
Forever empty is its place; 

But one far voice the lover hears, 
Calling across the waste of years. 


n 

One lived whose wont it was, at even- 
tide, 

To lean upon a hoar rock’s lichened side; 

There would her eyes look softness through 
the vast, 

Like moonlight in deep forest — lost, at 
last. 


*34 


Lyrics 


H er heart could open but to glories high, 
Could blossom only unto love's pure sky ; 
She came, and leaned, and dreamed ; and 
never day 

Knows, now, the light that went with her 
away. 


The Darkened Day 


I 35 


THE DARKENED DAY 

QHE rises to me from the morning sea, 

‘dJ Sunsets and stars bring back her face 
to me ; 

I find her when my lone thought wanders 
far, 

Beyond the gleamy reach of sun and star; 

Where never winds or waters laugh or 
moan, 

I hear her voice ; it is the olden tone. 

All quiet beauties of the day and night 

Give her again to hearing and to sight ; 

But when the day returns she fled the 
years. 

Then am I deaf with grief, death-blind 
with tears. 


1 3 6 


Lyrics 


LOVE AND GRIEF 

W OULDST hear strange music only 
the dreamer knows, 

Breath sweeter than breathing of winds 
that have been with the rose ? 

Wouldst see strange light that deep in 
the shadow plays, 

Wouldst pluck the secret from out the 
heart of the days ? 

Then follow Love and that other who 
feeds on her sweet ; 

Yea, follow Love and Grief, and fall low 
at their feet. 


The White Tower 


*3 7 


THE WHITE TO WER 

T>UILT in my dream, a white tower 

^ rose, 

And she, the light of it, a new soul, 
freed 

From earth, stood in the door. I heard 

Sweet music, sweet with earth and sweet 
with heaven. 

A cry ! it stabbed the silence through. 

The wail of one that could not bear his 
pain ; 

The tower grew dim, the music died, 

The soul swept downward toward the 
mortal cry. 

The white tower faded, and bright shapes 

Bowed them upon the silence, gazing 
down. 

“To know that love ! ” I heard them 
sigh ; 

“To know that love whose might is 
more than ours ! ” 


138 


Lyrics 


AUTUMN RAIN 


i 

N OW are the autumn hours 
Weeping on the flowers : 

“ The joy so dear, to-day, 

To-morrow drops away.” 

Over and over in the rain, — 

“ The rose, it comes, it goes again ” ; 
Over and over in the rain, — 

“ Love’s rose, it comes, it goes again.” 


ii 

The lorn hours weep, 

The blossoms fall asleep ; 

But in dreamland never close 
The summer ways. Love knows 
Them, and it never darkens there, 
Nor fades from her bright hair 
The rose, the rose. 

The lorn hours weep, 

The blossoms fall asleep ; 


Autumn Rain 

But among my dreams I sit, 
And all the place is lit 
With them and thee. Unknown 
To love the lover lone. 

Thou knowest it. 


1 39 


140 


Lyrics 


THE WAIF 

A WAIF there came from ways of 
grief, 

And on my heart ’t was lying ; 

There it trembled like the leaf 
When the wind and light are dying. 

Faint wail it made, — such dreamers hear 
From naked places crying; — 

At the fading of the year, 

The lone thing fell a-sighing : 

“ Into the darkness goes the day, 

Whither, whither none shall say ; 

Into the darkness goes the day, 

Ever and ever away, away. 

Sweet Love, sweet Love, 

She came from above ; 

I fell her feet before 
Sweet Love, Oh, sweet ! 

I fell at her feet ; 

She went — she comes no more.” 


The Willow Tree 


141 


THE WILLOW TREE 

'IXT'HERE blossoms grow, 

* * And winds are low, 

And the brook runs lightly by, 
There would we be, 

Under the willow tree, 

My Love and I. 

But Fate says “No!” 

He hates us so 

That it were vain to try ; 

We shall never be 
Under the willow tree, 

My Love and 1. 

But O, one day 
We will steal away; 

We shall cheat him by and by, 
Asleep all sound 
Under a sunny mound, 

My Love and I. 


142 


Lyrics 


COME ALONG , DEARY 

H ILL to valley the happy tune 

Singing the green upon the gray 
Sweet and kind, sweet and kind, 
Singing and kissing goes the wind. 

Singing to me and singing to you ; 
Come along, Deary ! What others do 
Never mind, never mind ; 

Singing and kissing goes the wind. 


What I Would 


H3 


WHAT / WOULD 

T WOULD have a poet’s book. 

In a shady summer nook, 

Where I could around me look. 

As a lover may ; 

I would have a little hand 

In my own; would hold it, and — 

Hold it, and — you understand. 

That would be my way. 

All a summer’s day. 

I would read a fervent page. 

Then explain, a very sage. 

All about the poet’s rage, 

As a lover may ; 

A modest charge were meet for this, — 
Just the brief rubific bliss 
Of a not-quite-willing kiss. 

That would be my way. 

All a summer’s day. 


144 


Lyrics 


THE WINGLESS ANGEL 

N ATURE, aweary of the trees, 

The brooks, the bird-songs and the 
breeze, 

Begins to see what she can do 
By way of maid’s eyes, brown or blue, 
And always models with the eyes 
A gentle lodge for housing sighs. 

Next spins she tresses, turns a throat 
Where Love can tuck his sweetest note, 
And, by a snow-curve pattern traced, 
Works, now, the wonder of a waist. 

She shapes, too, certain other things, 

And lo, an angel ! with the wings 
Left off, so it may never fly, 

But keep the earth a kind of sky. 

Poor man has plied her night and day; 

A secret still is Nature’s way. 

She wills, and works a world of harm 
With just a dear unsleeved arm, 

And things too deep to understand 
With tingles from a dimpled hand. 


Little Love 


H5 


LITTLE LOVE FORGETTETH 
HIS UMBRELLA 

(Anacreon.) 

L OVE came, one night, his wings all 
wet. 

And put his face against the pane, 

And shook his ringlets in the rain ; 

When soon I heard the sweetest noise, 
Made ’twixt the wind, his wings and voice ; 
I heard it, and I hear it yet. 

What could 1 do but ope the door, 

And take him softly from the storm, 

And rub his rosy body warm, 

And hang to dry the slackened bow 
And silver arrows, dripping so, 

And make him happy as before? 

I wist not what he was about : 

He took an arrow dry and clean. 

And said, “ *T will fly right well, I ween.” 
Now, here it is, the very dart, 

The barbs well fastened in my heart, 

Only the feathers sticking out. 


146 


Lyrics 


THE MERRY ROVER 
HERE the wild bee’s work is done, 



* * Where the blossoms, every one. 
As on sunny bank they lie, 

Turn on him a loving eye, 

Summer to summer, over and over. 
Comes a merry, merry rover. 

By the singing meadow-brook 
Loves he long to sit and look. 

On his hands his nicked chin. 
Laughing, leaning, looking in. 

Summer to summer, over and over. 
Comes the merry, merry rover ; 
While the squirrels frisk and banter. 
Ere the changing rabbits canter, 

And the leaves begin to wither, 

Fall, and flutter hither, thither. 

Long as bird and blossom stay, — 
He is ever on the way. 

Just a little blissful sigh, 

Like to that when roses die — 

You will hear him, drawing nigh. 

By and by, dear, by and by. 


The Way of It 


H7 


THE WAY OF IT 

T HE wind is awake, pretty leaves, 
pretty leaves, 

Heed not what he says; he deceives, he 
deceives : 

Over and over 
To the lowly clover 

He has lisped the same love (and for- 
gotten it, too) 

He will soon be lisping and pledging to 
you. 


The boy is abroad, pretty maid, pretty 
maid, 

Beware his soft words ; I 'm afraid, I ’m 
afraid : 

He has said them before 

Times many a score, 

Ay, he died for a dozen ere his beard 
pricked through, 

And the very same death he will die for 
you. 


148 Lyrics 

The way of the boy is the way of the 
wind, 

As light as the leaves is dainty maid- 
kind ; 

One to deceive, 

And one to believe — 

That is the way of it, year to year ; 

But I know you will learn it too late, 
my dear. 


Swallow and Fairy 


H9 


SWALLOW AND FAIRY 

A LL the summer will a swallow 
Flit the eave-nest out and in ; 
Day and day together. 

Twittering in the sunny weather, 

Flits she out and in ; 

But when the air gets sharp and thin, 
And her ways the snowflakes follow, 
Where ’s the swallow, where ’s 
swallow ? 

So, Love’s castle has a fairy. 

Tripping, tripping, out and in; 

Day and day together, 

Singing in the sunny weather, 

Trips she out and in ; 

But when the sober days begin, 

Wolf to fight, and care to carry, 
Where ’s the fairy, where ’s the fairy ? 


the 


i 5 ° 


Lyrics 


TO YOUNGSTERS 

G OLDEN hair and eyes of blue, 

What won’t they do, what won’t 
they do ? 

The gaitered foot, the taper waist — 

Be not in haste, be not in haste ; 

Before your chin grows twenty spear, 

My word for ’t, youngster, they ’ll ap- 
pear. 

Raven hair and eyes of night 
Undo the boys (it serves ’em right) ; 

The drooping curl, the downward glance, 
They are only waiting for the chance ; 
They have not failed this thousand year, 
Right in the nick, lad, they ’ll appear. 

Shapely hands and arms of snow, 

There ’s nothing like them here below ; 
The cheeks that blush, the lips that 
smile — 

A little while, a little while — 

Tease out the sprout, sir, never fear, 
Before you know it they ’ll be here. 


To Youngsters 151 

Hands, and hair, and lips, and eyes, 

In these the tyro’s danger lies; 

A touch, a tress, a glance, a sigh, 

And then, my boy, good-by — good-by ! 
God help you, youngster ! keep good 
cheer ; 

Coax on your chin to twenty spear. 


l S 2 


Lyrics 


SHE KNOWS 

W HO has done it? 

Who has tamed the town, 

Got the transient dandies 
On their marrows down ? 

Who rules and fools the summer beaux? 
A little dimpled elf, 

Amazing safe herself, 

She knows, she knows. 

Where is one, now, 

Put, next summer, two ; 

She will tame the town, boys, 

That ’s what she will do. 

She ’ll find the strings ; bring on the 
beaux ! 

The little angel sinner, 

(The very mischief ’s in her,) 

She knows, she knows. 


Love ’s In Town 


LOVE ’S IN TOWN 

C OLOR in the lilacs. 

And singing in the air 
Sweet is for the having, 
Plenty and to spare. 

Fuzzy are the bushes. 

The fields are all a-smile; 
Phyllis has a feeling 
Life is worth the while ; 

Dian tests her dimples, 
Griselda fetches sighs ; 
Amaryllis loosens 
The lightnings in her eyes ; 

Roxy knots her ribbons, 
Belinda binds her zone ; — 
Pluck your heart up, Colin ! 
Philander, hold your own ! 

Tell it up and down, 

Love ’s in town ! 


154 


Lyrics 


“ 5 WEE T- THING ” JANE 

W HEN somebody comes a-tripping 
down, 

The winds all at play with her hair and 
gown ; 

The very same winds that are just too 
lazy 

To lift a leaf or to swing a daisy, — 
Then hold your heart with might and 
main : 

She is crossing the meadow, “ Sweet-thing ” 
Jane. 


She always chooses the cool of the day, 

The way down to Lovetown, that ’s her 
way; 

She knows very well (what is well-worth 
knowing) 

There ’s only one road — the road she is 
going ; 

And she knows she is sweet as a rose in 
the rain. 

And she knows — she will tell you, “ Swect- 
thing” Jane. 


“ Sweet-thing ” Jane 155 

A light will burn in the blue of her eye. 
Like the star lit first in the evening sky ; 
And over her lips will bubble the laughter 
The brooks in the sun go running after ; 
You will see, you will hear, at the gate in 
the lane, 

While slowly it opens to “ Sweet-thing ” 
Jane. 


You will open it wide, then what will 
you do ? 

Why, you will be off for Lovetown, too ; 

The cool of the day is your lovers’ weather, 

And all go to Lovetown two together. 

You may hold your heart with might and 
main. 

She will have it at last, will “ Sweet- 
thing ” Jane. 


156 


Lyrics 


YOUR DIMPLED DEAR 

N OT for thought, your dimpled dear, 
Philosophy is not her forte ; 

But then, to corner her — I fear 
You will find it solemn sport. 

I have learned, by search somewhat severe. 
That she ’s extremely queer, 

Your dimpled dear. 

Ignorant, your dimpled dear, 

Of Huxley, Lubbock, and all such, 

But I shall be upon my bier 
Before I know as much ; 

Her grandam did n’t, at ninety year. 

She is extremely queer, 

Your dimpled dear. 

Dreamy is your dimpled dear, 

Divinity itself to rhyme ; 

But there ’s one trouble : that ’s as near 
As love can ever climb. 

Her sympathies get out of gear, 

She ’s so extremely queer, 

Your dimpled dear. 


Your Dimpled Dear 157 


Lonely is your dimpled dear, 

She vows her dallying is done ; 

But — take my word — it will appear 
That you are not the one. 

Why, she out- veers Miss Vere de Vere, 
She ’s so exceeding queer, 

Your dimpled dear . 

Plump and fair, your dimpled dear, 
Young, lonely, lovely, innocent; 

Oh, will some GEdipus make clear 
For what the darling ’s meant, 

Some Swedenborg please name her sphere ; 
She *s so egregious queer, 

Your dimpled dear! 


LUELLA 


K ATE ’S at her best in an apron. 
Jinny 's bewitching by gas. 

While Becky, in kitchen or parlor. 

Is just the ne -plus of a lass ; 

But Katie and Jinny, 

With Sadie and Minnie 
And Becky and Bella, 

Are not — not Luella. 

Deb, in the choir of a Sunday, 

Sings like a bird in the bough ; 

Sweet heavens ! but Nan in the saddle ! 
And Betty's a charmer, somehow; 

Yet Debby and Nanny 
And Betty and Annie 
And Edna and Stella, 

Are not — not Luella. 


Fan is a sylph in a bonnet, 
Nett has her dozens undone; 
Tall Addy is utter destruction. 
And Caddy is certain to stun; 


Luella 


*59 


But Fanny and Addy 
And Nettie and Caddy 
And Hetty and Della, 

Are not — not Luella. 

Clara — the turn of her ankle ; 

Dolly — her eyes and her smile ! 

And where is the match for Semantha 
(Unless it be Molly) in style? 

But Clara and Dolly 
Semantha and Molly 
And Esther and Ella, 

Are not — not Luella 

Heavens, what a reign of all graces ! 
Each is a queen in her way ; 

And turning it over and over. 

There ’s only a word left to say : 

Katie and Jinny, 

Sadie and Minnie, 

Debby and Nanny, 

Betty and Annie, 

Fanny and Addy, 

Nettie and Caddy, 

Clara and Dolly, 

Semantha and Molly, 

Becky and Bella, 

Hetty and Della, 

Edna and Stella, 

Are not — not Luella. 


i6o 


Lyrics 


AUTO-DA-FE (To C. W F) 

H EIGH-HO, a drowsy, drippy day 
Suits well your single gentlemen 
Whose locks begin to show the gray. 

The grizzly drizzle round my “ den,” 

’T is sent on purpose, I dare say, 

For bachelor’s auto-da-fe. 

I have the ribboned missives here, 

The hearth flames flicker low, but clear, 
The spell is on, — the savage spell 
To do the burning quickly, well ; 

So, to it. 

Heavens ! how old am I ? 

It seems a hundred year since she 
That inked this paper said to me, 

“You will be older by and by.” 

I was a beardless rover then, 

The Callow Knight of the Daring Pen, 
A-tilting in the lists of air 
For every damsel young and fair. 
Constance, your knight is older, now ; 
And you ? The darker grows the bough 
That brightest wore the morning gold. 

As time’s own hand let mine be bold, — 


Auto-Da-Fe 


1 6 1 


Spring up, brave little tongues of fire ; 
Here I begin the precious pyre. 


These ? These from merry Margaret. 

I never loved her, never ; yet 
There was a something us between 
That keeps a spear of memory green, — 
A plucky, strong, unbrothered blade, 

Still smilling in its depth of shade. 

Well turned the hand that down this page 
Drew line to line, each letter clear 
And firm from “ Jolly John, my dear,” 
Far as the awkward word “ engage.” 
“Engage,” “engage”! Did I propose? 
Here ’t is again, right at the close. 

Plump Margaret, if this be true, 

In those young days what did n’t I do? 
For shame! — Up, up, good flames! To 
you 

I toss this costly treasure, too. 


There ’s nothing like a rainy day 
When one would put old loves away. 

Ha, this trig bundle, what an air 
Of pride about it ! And the care 
To make a fellow bite the dust: 

“ Down on your knee, you must, you 
must!” 


162 


Lyrics 


And probably I did go down, 

(General prostration seized the town,) 

In fact, 1 know I did; but, then. 
Somehow 1 found my feet again. 

A girl ’s a girl, a boy ’s a fool, 

And life, it proves a sorry school.— 
Proud queen, cloud-born, serene and high. 
To bow low down is not to die; 

Long I survive all injury 
To aching heart or quaking knee. 

But mark ! a chance word, here and there. 
Says yet you could a little “ care.” 
Imperial Lois, ’t is too late. — 

These from her highness, gentle grate. 


And, now, to Helen. Taste of wine 
Is on my lips, the sting of spices ; 

This dark-eyed marvel was divine, 

Even in mundanity’s devices. 

She traced these pages sharp and fast 
As hailstones drive on the winter blast; 
Tame passion Helen never knew, 

A very hurricane ' she blew. 

Or sat in midst of awful calm. 

No other ever sang a psalm 
As she could sing it, on occasion ; 

And hers alone the eyes could play 
Such antics after the operation. 


Auto-Da-Fe 


163 


Charmer half-wild in heart and mind, 
Angel with a dash of the tiger kind, 
Love’s leopard, — Helen, off and on, 

We loved it madly, years agone. 

When you were married — Blaze, bright 
pyre ! 

I add these also, fire to fire. 


And still the rain, the gray gray rain ! 
Old Rover’s nose is at the pane. — 
Rover, you wag your tail in vain ; 

Not any roving on the day — 

The day we put old loves away. — 

’ Tis almost done ; one offering more. 
What says the clock ? Quarter of four. — 
Here’s for you, fellow; foul or fair, 
Rover, ’tis time we took the air. — 

These last, these little yellow scraps, 

Good fire, ere long, perhaps — perhaps. 


164 


Lyrics 


s 


THE KITCHEN CLOCK 

K NITTING is the maid o’ the kitchen, 
Milly, 

Doing nothing, sits the chore-boy, Billy : 
“ Seconds reckoned, 

Seconds reckoned. 

Every minute, 

Sixty in it ; 

Milly, Billy, 

Billy, Milly, 

Tick-tock, tock-tick. 

Nick-knock, knock-nick. 

Knockety-nick, nickety-knock,” — 

Goes the kitchen clock. 

Closer to the fire is rosy Milly, 

Every whit as close and cozy, Billy : 

<c Time is flying, 

Worth your trying; 

Pretty Milly, 

Kiss her, Billy 1 
Milly, Billy, 

Billy, Milly, 

Tick-tock, tock-tick, 

Now — now, quick — quick!” 


The Kitchen Clock 


* 6 5 


Knockety-nick, nickety-knock,” 

Goes the kitchen clock. 

Something ’s happened, very red is Milly, 
Billy boy is looking very silly : 

“ Pretty misses, 

Plenty kisses ; 

Make it twenty. 

Take a plenty ; 

Billy, Milly, 

Milly, Billy, 

Right-left, left-right, 

That ’s right, all right, 

Knockety-nick, nickety-knock,” — 

Goes the kitchen clock. 

Weeks gone, still they are sitting, Milly, 
Billy; 

O, the winter winds are wondrous chilly ! 
“ Winter weather. 

Close together ; 

Wouldn’t tarry. 

Better marry ; 

Milly, Billy, 

Billy, Milly, 

Two, one — one, two, 

Don’t wait, *t won’t do, 

Knockety-nick, nickety-knock,” — 

Goes the kitchen clock. 


1 68 


Lyrics 


The little lass and the miller boy, 

The meed of the years, the grief, the joy. 
They told it all, that summer day ; 
However run the hours away, 

Bring fortune good or bring it ill, 

Heart and hope live over the hill. 


After the Cows 


169 


AFTER THE COWS 

“TLJIGH time, high time the cows were 
-*• home ; 

Will lingerin’ Jinny never come ? ” 

The father stroked his grizzly head ; 

The mother, slowly sewing, said, 

<c Put one and one together : 

The bars slip hard in rainy weather.” 

“ Now, mother, do you mean to say 
We’ve had a smitch o’ rain to-day?” 

A little quicker passed the thread, 

As quietly good mother said, 

“ Put one and one together : 

The cows climb high in sunny weather.” 

“ In rain or shine, will Brindle climb 
Too high to come at milkin’-time ? ” 

Good mother smoothed her sewing down : 
“When this was my new Sunday gown, 
Put lad and lass together, 

’Twas love, not cows, in any weather.” 


170 


Lyrics 


AT THE HEARTHSIDE. 

T HE children tucked away, 

His hearthside bright and still. 
The farmer's frowns are all that say 
The day has brought him ill. 

The wife — her work is done — 
Moves cheerly here and there ; 

The comforts gather, one by one, 
Around the easy chair. 

Now, as a sunny brook 
Will woo the moody shore, 

She nears the gloomy chimney nook 
She hardly ventures more. 

If he but lift his face — 

The hearth flames quicken, spring; 
A yielding smile, his old embrace, 
And wife and kettle sing. 


The Trapper’s Sweetheart 171 


THE TRAPP ERE SWEETHEART 

VI/HDE awake, now, mind your eye, 

* * She will think on ’t by and by; 
She will see — perhaps — she may, 

’Gin to-morrer, not to-day. 

“ Be true to me, 

Furgit,” says she, 

Jest as it may hit her fancy: 

That ’s it zackly, that is Nancy. 

Take a squirrel up a tree, 

Jest so frisky, sir, is she: 

Now on this side, now on that, 

You must watch her like a cat. 

It’s “No,” it’s “Yes, 

I rather guess,” — 

Jest as it may tech her fancy: 

That’s it zackly, that is Nancy. 

You ’ve seen creeturs sudding lame, 

Git too near ’em, an’ — they ’re game ! 
Her right over : an inch too near, 

Up and off is Nancy dear. 

“Yes, Jake,” says she, 

“ Laws sake ! ” says she, 


172 


Lyrics 


Jest accordin’ to her fancy : 

That ’s it zackly, that is Nancy. 

Whew ! a gal ’s a cunnin’ thing, 
You must take ’em on the wing. — 
I ’ll be goin’ ; fur, ye see, 

Nancy, she *s expectin’ me. 

I ’ll hit or miss her, 

It’s quit or kiss her; 

I ’m fur facts, while she ’s fur fancy 
That’s us zackly , — me and Nancy. 

























w 



-O 

* -o p : 

* • * a ° , 

K A? S.icx*. *- J * 

Xfv * 

V** ' SssaMK# * . I 


<* <7Y* * ,0^ 

,i5a£>. ^ f p* 

^o 



4°* 


* ^ r$ 

<* V P ,-0 

: *■* d* : 


> .<$- 

^ ,** •NS®*'. ^ ^ 



*^0 * 1 1y c ° w « 

O ,i1? * 

o *0 "7*» * 0. * 

\'‘^' *o v % •*.’• , 4 K 




*V \ • 

-iP ■ ' ' 0 V ,»‘*i_» '"o .«’ 

o^§» : :^j^r. -bj> « 

* ^ #»; ^ -v k 


•#■ . , 

^ J - * * " <U r 'O * * 

, -o o" f*_ ,cr .•_ l ,J*l*. "*p. 

; 

J P ■%. 

* . *«$. *"’*' ^ "°*. '*.To»- .o' <#v 

*0 ^ i' * * ^ ^ ** *o!Lf* O h * * °y ^ 

0 ©JiiliS * v' ^tcCvssA 0 

* <^V " vp cp 



^ <} * ' r - <4 ' 



av** 

;* 4 * ^ 

^ ° • * * *0- <*■ ** 
* L ' a ■» ^o . o •» o . <$» 

. •'M :£mh: : *bp 

? b° ’»* 





^ *• fv o , 

*™/A; 

^ 6 C,^ V ^J% © T ^ * 



> v S S~, ^ 01,W ^ 

^ ^ * 

^ ^ o 

V ❖> © 4 

O ^o k i ^ A > ^ c£* • 

1 1 a ^ a\ ^v ^ $ -G o •'o « 7 ^ A 

t,# *^ o ^ *y *0*0+ lt i, ^ <3 a > 

° /r /Sssswir* ^ c° °o ^ - 

< V 1 0 IA -^> A «. Mrj\ l//^> * <N * 

A <v *£mr&^+ *b k ff 






•■-'•• f 0 " V'*Trr.*\^ 

■i.° *’*°- *> v % » 

p •“ •* ^ • - v 






2 v° V 

»* 0 ° % ' 

0 f I V®^ <1 


' • ’V .4?' '»» ' • 




° ^ * 
\ W ; 

° £ V * 

* cy & • 



'<?„ /V 


•w 


A v^, 

•/ <$■ % 



« ^ » 

• .$ V 

' ^ 9», 


*"TVi* .0 \ *..T* A <. *-.“•• .O v >=, 

o^ • L> ** ^o A o*^** o^ .• v, *4 

* I I a* ^ V? a! ^ * pCaWv.H.^. *1.44 VJ A 


7*. V/ ♦ 


^0 





^i r a' U wcv^>s % v vr* * <&yyZ/u3r * v* ^ ^rilvvvsS^ % 

<1> P 'IMX^A 0 'V *^T»* «> 0, ''T'^V 

* * VL'* cv * < • °> ^ V % **^L% Ay 

'lotto*?* ^ aV « A +* a? 


\ 



C,-' sf*. ° U 
* °” 

* <y <$* • 


A V ^4 

;* 4* % 

"o.4- a «o v -- 

o aA «> °JL° * o^ t * c v> o 


*, ‘’SjvA* 


V* V 


A v«* 

;* ♦♦ ^ 


o Y 



6°* 




0 0 ’ * * - * - A' 

C\ .0 f 

%i* '* 


P ^ * 4 T T '* 4 ' " * «J 

1 ^ * 1 ’ \v 

.<*<>,» v 

"o ^ A / 

°. W : 

; Y%. • 

„ . — ( y ts •«?.?•* A' ' <4 '* 

<$ . ' * -Ar . «. 1 • ., V ^ 6 0 " « * <->, n*4 

■*>> Cj i sy>2~, + 0_ 5*l> « r-^'cv <* T /» U v v 

Vj» * jfiy7Z^2 O »N «, «5vNS^A^ , %.«• *3 r >. ,0 * 

4 l ''-' *. & > V,!///>r> ■» .44 -A. A _'scsSS\\ll .. Ai -c •> 

, Cr 


^4 

• I 1 



4 0. 

lA 



^ '•*•’ a 0 ' 

‘ %, jy ■ 

Vy 




^ ’.-wV / 





• y*? ° 

* ^ » * v'A/yn-KWVNi - . ^ 

« A'V .A-^. 


..W.‘ ^ •.SaB?»* ^ y v > 

•f. . • a <* vtva ,c^ V *• • » * .A < 

=o ,# ^f> °0 ^ -^1' 





.v V'** T '° ^°' ^ *"’ 

1 - 0 ^ A <> ,*V_r C> sy %p“ *S 

.V s» ♦ ^ ^ a v *^4 A *» ^ «/ 

► .S..8 .♦. ^ A <*J. A 

sP <? * * V V 



/ > 





y ^ 




**7J7PVg^ ^ "o .?* a ^ <0 V ^ 

<P * * . t * • 4 c 0 - 0 4 • *■ 1 * ♦ 

. ^ 0 *v^% °.. A «*^<' V . 0 4 *>b^:- 


"Vtf 


,<°4 


• « 




